Slayer, Vampire, Hunter, Hunted
by Mixer
Summary: Kennedy has left the Newly Formed Council, and what does she find but confusion, pain and the love of a beautiful vampire. BTVS/Supernatural Cross
1. Chapter 1

Rating: Violence, Rape, Harsh Language, Homosexual Relationships Rating: Violence, Rape, Harsh Language, Homosexual Relationships

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I own nothing... Buffy Post Season Seven Supernatural Post Season Two, Episode Three But possible spoilers for the rest of season 2

**Etens, Oklahoma**

She was so hungry, her blood boiled in her veins as it screamed out, if she didn't feed soon she was going to die…of course if she stopped to feed she was going to die as well. Screwed either way, so she ran. Feet thumping against mud and stone as a shimmer of rain descended on her, the brush that she was racing through stung as it cut at her exposed flesh and tore her clothes. Time seemed to slow as she lost her balance and slid across the mud, toppling down a slight hill. She vaguely felt something break as she struck the ground hard, with all of that nice soft mud she had smacked straight into a rock, and there she lay dazed for a moment. A moment that she didn't have to spare, but she couldn't move anymore, she couldn't run, she was so very tired. Physically her body had been pushed beyond its limits so that every muscle was strained and burning, and mentally she was too exhausted to think.

She just wanted to curl up and die. As that thought crossed her mind she began to cry, soft tears that slid across her cheeks to mingle with the rain that was soaking through her, the hunger was worse then she had ever felt it. Like a gnawing ache in her gut, it burned and wrenched at her, but more agonising then the hunger was the void inside of her, the emptiness, the utter desolation where her thriving spirit had once existed.

The slow schloomp of boots being sucked into the mud and pulled free signalled the hunter's arrival. The noise was maybe the worse thing she had ever heard, so slow and meticulous as it approached. Pace never faltering across mud or stone. With only a light rain shedding upon them she could smell his aftershave, a putrid mix of saffron and trillion. She could practically taste the leather of his boots in the air as he drew ever nearer until finally a blur appeared over her. She had to blink to clear the rain from her eyes enough to see him, but there he was. Standing at six foot two, lean, mean black muscle, his name was Gordan Walker and he was a psychotic vampire hunter who had just killed everyone she loved.

Now he had her in his sights, rain dripping down off his coat and sliding along the dull glint of his machete, a blade coated in a thick red substance that was slowly sliding along it. She would've spoken, tried to say something, but her stomach chose that moment to cramp horrifically, forcing her to curl into a ball. Not the most dignified way to meet her executioner, but since she didn't seem to have a choice it would have to do. "I've waited a long time for this vampire"; Gordan Walkers voice was low and grating, tightly controlling a seething mass of rage. Maybe his appearance of control fooled most people, but she was a creature intimately familiar with hate and loathing, too familiar to miss it in someone else.

"Sam and Dean bought you some time, but we both knew this was coming," he announced, "Vampires can't change, sooner or later you'll start craving the human variety again. I'm just ending the threat". She watched from the corner of her vision as he adjusted his grip on the weapon and drew it back, it took her a moment to realise he was planning to stab her first. The only way to kill her was decapitation; he was just too much of a sadistic bastard to end it quickly. And as she thought that her mind drifted back to the first time he had tortured her, small cuts with Dead Man's Blood, over and over again to watch her squirm. To watch the poison seep through her veins, almost as agonising as the hunger.

It was then she scented the blood. Like her the brush had cut him up as he stalked her, and now with him so close and the hunger so fierce she could smell it, metallic, almost like copper, her mouth began to water with the scent of it. She had denied herself so long, so very long, but at least before she had had something to take the edge off. Cow's blood may not have been appetising, but it was enough to survive on, She felt the slight pricks in her gums as her teeth descended and she unfurled, her pupils dilated and Walker must have seen it too.

For the second time that night, time seemed to slow as the hunter tried to drive the blade down and pin her to the ground. It was a sharp, sudden, pain as the blade pierced her chest but it was too late, with a speed born of lightning she had uncoiled and rode him to the ground. He smacked into the mud with a squelching sound and she watched as horror filled his eyes as she lunged forward, her teeth shredding through his throat in an act of pure savagery. And then there was the reward, steaming hot blood gushed from what had once been his throat, her mouth convulsed rapidly as she struggled around him and bit deeper. Trying to lap it all up.

His blood was such sweet ecstasy to her; she was like an alcoholic who had just fallen off the wagon. She had denied her thirst for so many years, all for the sake of survival, so that she and her kind wouldn't be hunted. But what had it really achieved? The hunter had stalked them, killed them anyway, the sudden clarity that suffused her with the hunters blood warred with who she was and what she had become. More then a year ago she had told one of her people, Eli, that if vampire could change, then so could people.

Tearing herself from his body she let out a scream of sheer rage, pain, and anguish. A scream that pierced through the fading night. She was not a monster, not anymore! At first she had stopped drinking human blood for the sake of survival, but somewhere along the line it had become more then that, she and her kind didn't need to kill humans to survive, they didn't need to be monsters! Screaming again she dropped back to her knees and wrenched the machete from her chest with a sickening schloomp, much like the hunters boots had made in the mud. She was alone, but she would not be a monster, she would not be a killer.

Clasping her head in her hands she keeled over into the thickening mud and began to cry again, heavy tears flowing out of her. And she began to whisper to herself, the same words over and over again, "I'm not a killer, I'm not a killer," and finally, "I'm not a killer…"

**Dalsville, Colorado**

More then a week passed from that fateful night and Lenore found herself in a grungy excuse for a bar somewhere in Colorado. The night was whipping up a cacophony of thunder and rain with the occasional pelting of hail. Ever since she had drunk from the hunter her senses had been soaring, not so much more powerful then normal, she was just feeling them anew. Almost like a rebirth.

A rebirth which she was going to be forced to fight, sighing wistfully she choked back a whisky and enjoyed the burning sensations as it slid down her throat, it was a momentary distraction from the gnawing that had taken a hold of her inside. It seemed that it was going to be harder to give up human blood the second time then it had been the first.

Lenore couldn't remember the cravings being so vicious the first time, but then again the first time she had been surrounded by her blood. By men and women she had made vampires, men and women who were suffering through the same withdrawals that she was. Shuddering she took a hold of herself and focused on keeping her hands from trembling, she was disgusted by herself, feeling like a junkie in need of her fix.

A fix that she could not, and would not have. Animal blood just didn't seem to be taking the edge off and she knew she was becoming increasingly…hostile…snappish and irritable. It was probably a good thing she didn't have any friends…unfortunately that thought conjured memories of her friends lying bleeding and broken, poisoned or beheaded, not a sight anyone would wish to come home to. For a moment she wished that bastard hunter was still alive so she could kill him more slowly, but that quickly passed, the only feeling she could hold onto for any period of time was her anguish, her grief. How she wished she could drown them out like humans did, it wasn't that she couldn't become intoxicated, but it was likely she would wake up surrounded by a pool of blood and a room of corpses.

A luxury that would bare too high a price.

While contemplating her self-loathing Lenore caught a scent, at the very edge of her awareness, it was illusive, almost slippery, if a scent could be such a thing. But finally as her attention shifted she was able to take it in, it was the scent of death, an almost snakelike muster.

It had been so very long since she had smelt anything like it that for a moment Lenore was confused, but the moment passed and the scent came into crystal clarity. Vampire. But not like her, it was something else, laced with an almost sulphuric taste, a demonic taste.

It wasn't a widely known fact, but there were two breeds of vampire, perhaps more that even she wasn't aware of. The demonic kinds were the most common, and Lenore's kind had worked very hard to be the lesser-known breed, of course that had backfired. Staying in the shadows her breed of vampire had kept their numbers low, numbers that were ever dwindling until they had become an endangered species…

Lenore shook her head to clear the scent from her nostrils as she glanced around the bar, a thin layer of smoky haze hid the edges of the room, and the broken flickering lights served to hinder her enhanced vision more then aid it. The constantly changing levels of lighting forced her pupils to continue to contract and expand. Pushing out of her wooden seat Lenore moved with a predatory grace as she finally spotted the creature. He looked like a man, with wavy dark black hair and intense blue eyes, a Mediterranean tint to his skin, he was quite simply gorgeous, as if he had been chiselled from stone and brought to life by the gods.

Of course there's a simple reason for that, she thought. Demonic Vampires were attracted to bright, shiny and pretty things, more then that, when they rose from their graves they brought with them their human failings. Vanity, lust, being two of the more powerful. A vampire would prefer to drink the blood of someone beautiful, a stroke to their ego, despite the fact that the blood of a leper would quench their thirst just as easily.

In that tradition Lenore noticed his companion was also a beautiful young woman, so fresh, so full of vitality that she could taste it from across the room. Smooth dark skin, dark eyes and wavy black hair as well that reached to her waist, her necklace and wristbands cried out she was Native American.

As they slipped out the door Lenore followed, stalking them from the shadows, across a dusty parking lot and into a tree line. It was sheer human stupidity to build their dwellings so close to woodland, a great many things can hide in the woods. Nonetheless Lenore continued to stalk the two of them, driven on by that sulphuric scent. It wasn't until she saw the two of them pressed against an old oak tree that she realised why she had followed them. The hunger. She could smell the girl's blood permeating the woods, so sweet, so tempting, Lenore's mouth was watering at the prospect and she hated herself for it.

In desperation she breathed deeply, taking in as much of that musty vampiric odour as she could, the tinge of sulphur burned her nostrils and for that she was thankful. Now all she could smell was the other vampire, the other monster, and it was his blood that she was hungering for.

Not to feed, but as something to hate, something to loathe other then herself. He was the true monster, not her, he revelled in blood and death, and he was part demon. With a feral roar she darted from her concealed position and dug her hands into the monsters shoulders, Lenore wrenched him from the girl with all of her own supernaturally induced strength. He smacked back into a tree with a sickening crunch and as quickly as that turned to ash, a shattered tree limb having perforated his chest, the look of shock on his face was almost amusing. For the big bad monster he hadn't known he too was being stalked, that something more dangerous then him walked the woods and that soon death would be coming for him.

But now that he was gone all Lenore could smell was the blood gushing from the girl, her own teeth had descended and her face contorted as she fought her body. She was dragging herself towards the girl despite herself, the unconscious bleeding girl. Sight, sound, smell, her senses were attuned to the blood and everything else faded away, the forest, the darkness, the wet mulch beneath her.

And for the second time that night a vampire was gripped by the shoulders and wrenched through the air. The impact with something hard shuddered through Lenore and she slumped to her knees, pain coursing through her as twigs and rocks cut into her palms. She growled monstrously as she flicked her hair back to see her assailant…and she paused. A young woman with short edgy brown hair was looking down at Lenore, dark black fishnet laced over a black bra and trailed over a dark skirt, her arms were crossed, poised, and she wore black gauntlets studded with silver over her wrists. She screamed predator, and in an instant she washed away everything that had been overcoming Lenore. Her hunger, her rage, all of it was simply gone, replaced with a sense of puzzlement.

She cautiously scented the air as she stood, taking a less aggressive but mirror image stance with her arms crossed. The woman smelled of sweet death, rain and ozone and life, the force of her aura radiated out in almost corporeal ripples through the air.

_What was she?_

Lenore had never come across anyone like her before. "You just going to stand there vampire?" The woman queried, a quirky forceful tone to her voice.

When Lenore made no effort to move or respond the girl simply shrugged and something in the air changed, a new spike of danger and exhilaration. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees as a cool wind washed over them both, and then the girl moved. Like a predator, a graceful, stalking lioness the girl leapt into action.

A foot crashed into the spot where Lenore had been a heartbeat before, with her own swift response Lenore latched onto a wrist and swivelled beneath the girls arm as it became twisted behind her back. Her other hand reached towards the girls throat to pull her back, restrain her, suppress her ability to respond.

But with a startlingly degree of strength the Hispanic looking woman reversed Lenore's grip and used it to flip her, vampiric speed was all that prevented her from hitting the ground. She reared back and smashed a side kick through the Hispanic woman's stomach, to Lenore's astonishment the girl stumbled back a few steps and clasped her stomach for the briefest of moments before executing a flury of strikes.

It was all Lenore could do to maintain her defence; she had no chance to strike back after that. With an impressive arching back flip the Hispanic woman was suddenly behind Lenore and sweeping aside a hasty back fist. Lenore watched with her acute perception and clarity in that moment as the girl ducked and swung around to drive a stake through her heart.

The pain was immediate and Lenore gasped collapsing against the mulch of the ground, the soft mix of leaves and dirt comforting her as she fell against them grasping at the piece of wood sticking out of her chest.

An unconscious tear of pain slipped from her eye as she tried to pull the stake free, pain was lancing through her as the weapon splintered and broke. The Hispanic woman was looking…confused…her eyes glancing between Lenore and the now dead woman lying a few feet from them. A new glint of intelligence slipped across the woman's face as she focused on the now dead Native American and then back on Lenore, her eyes slowly coming to a halt on Lenore's utterly bloodless lips and then back to the savaged throat of the dead girl.

Again her eyes moved to take in the shattered stake protruding from Lenore's chest.

"Well this is odd," she stated before Lenore succumbed to darkness.

Lenore wasn't expecting to ever wake up again, so when she did that was shock enough. But to add to that she was still in the woods, still where she had fallen the night before. The only difference being someone had taken the time and care to remove the stake and all of its accompanying splinters and carefully bandage her chest.

Raising herself onto her elbows Lenore's eyes stung viciously and watered as a ray of light fell across her face. The shock of it made her slump back down again, and to her shame she even whimpered a little.

Tightly shutting her eyes Lenore lay back into the mulch again and unconsciously ran a hand across the ruins of her shirt and her unblemished chest. The skin was smooth and finely healed, she had been a vampire so long, and she knew with certainty that only decapitation would deliver her to her final death, yet she was still surprised when a supposedly mortal wound did more damage to her clothes then to her flesh.

"If you had a pair of shades, I'd really appreciate them," she called out, she could smell the young woman from the night before somewhere close by. Lenore could almost feel her eyes pressing down on her.

"The light stings your eyes," a sweet, melodic, but somehow bratty, voice called back

"Which is why I was asking for the shades," Lenore replied as she remained lying in the mulch, even with her eyes closed she could see red swarming through her vision rather then black. No doubt the result of the bright morning light that was shining over her.

"If you want to kill me I'll tell you how." Lenore said quietly, a normal human wouldn't have heard her but from the subtle shift of position that she could hear the other woman make it was obvious Hispanic girl wasn't entirely normal.

"But if not," she continued "shades would be very much appreciated. I don't particularly like having a conversation where I'm blind."

Leaves twisted and twigs broke as the other woman made no attempt to hide her approach, and suddenly a cool pair of frames slipped over her face and she let her eyes flicker open. Lenore's face was a little damp from the tears that the sun had evoked, but now that the world was tinted black, a very dark shade of black, she felt considerable better.

With a liquid grace she rolled to a standing position and swirled to face the Hispanic woman. She was even more beautiful in the daylight, her soft brown skin was almost luminescent under the sun, more then enough to take Lenore's breath away.

"Hi," Lenore said, in a clipped cool tone, "I'm Lenore, I'm a vampire and as promised decapitation is my primary weakness…and you are?" It was cavalier, even for her, but the other woman must have been standing watch over her for the better part of the night, something about that bugged Lenore.

"My names Kennedy, I'm a vampire slayer and usually any kind of mortal wound will kill me," her response was bratty, immature. Yet it swept through the vampire with a breath of serenity.

A vampire slayer. Lenore rolled her head as she took in Kennedy's scent once more, breathing it deeply until it was embedded in her memory. Lenore had only ever heard vague legends of the vampire slayer, a girl with a destiny, the bogey woman of the supernatural world. Until that moment that was exactly what Lenore had thought a slayer was, just some myth, a non-existent entity used to scare the supernaturals.

"I didn't think the slayer truly existed," Lenore said, it was strange how peaceful she felt, staring at what amounted to death.

Kennedy laughed at that, a rich, deep laugh that echoed through Lenore. "You claim to be a vampire, and yet you didn't know that slayers exist -" she continued with "Well I suppose THE slayer doesn't exist anymore…"

While at the same time Lenore spoke defensively, "What do you mean _**claim**_ to be a vampire?"

The girl, the slayer, was laughing at Lenore as if she were an ignorant child. "For a 'vampire'," she actually went as far as creating quotation marks in the air "you don't do a very good job, for one a stake through the heart did zilch to you, sunlight just stings your eyes and as far as I can tell you didn't kill that girl last night."

She growled then, low and deep in her throat, she hadn't meant to. But she didn't enjoy being mocked…on the other hand she was quite happy to still be alive, maybe a little mocking wasn't so bad.

A grin spread across her face, she could mock as well. In an exaggerated manner she looked directly into Kennedy's eyes and sighed, "I suppose I shouldn't hold your ignorance against, I mean how is an itsy bitsy little girl meant to understand the vast and complex supernatural world."

Suddenly the slayer didn't seem to find it quite so amusing, her arms crossed into a more aggressive stance and she flicked the hair from her eyes violently, "And what's that supposed to mean wannabe?"

"It's supposed to mean that more creatures walk the earth then heaven and hell combined, the earthly plains are a crossroads for other worlds, that being said there are more then one breed of vampire on this earth."

"Don't stop now," Kennedy threw back, "You almost sound interesting."

"The vampires you know are true monsters, soulless, demonically possessed evil bastards…tend to turn to ash when they die…sound about right."

Kennedy just gave a curt nod, so Lenore continued "But vampires like me? We're not demons, we're not possessed, we're not soulless and we're not all evil."

"Even if that's true, your still a bloodsucker."

Lenore would have protested but her body chose that moment to cramp painfully, forcing her to her knees, making the point that she needed to feed.

Through clenched teeth she hissed, "I don't have to hurt people to feed."

"Your still a vampire," Kennedy's voice was soft now, and there was no humour in it. Glancing up at her Lenore saw an unsheathed blade in her hand, a blade that hadn't been there a moment ago and she had a frightful moment of clarity. The Slayer had just been playing with her, she had known from before Lenore woke what she was and how to stop her.

Looking intently at the shining silver blade Lenore grunted, "If you already-" she was panting with the exertion "-knew what I was. Why. Not. Kill me. While. I slept?" She lost the little strength she had then and screamed with the gut wrenching pain.

Gods! She had never felt the hunger quite like it and in another moment of clarity she realised Walker must have tainted his blood somehow, it was the only explanation for all the pain she had been feeling. She had just thought it the hunger and the withdrawals, but it couldn't have been just that!

"Curiosity," Kennedy replied as she slowly began to walk forward, "Something I picked up from my last girlfriend, an almost insatiable desire for knowledge…when I realised you weren't like a normal vampire I called a friend to get the full scoop on what you are…I just wanted to talk to you first…"

Clenching at her stomach Lenore felt the pain beginning to lance deeper within her, "I have a right to survive, just like you," she said as she descended into the agony, those would probably be the last coherent words she ever spoke.

Kennedy's voice was even softer now, as she drew back the sword, "Survival of the fittest."

Once again Lenore never expected to awake, but once again she was wrong as she felt the nauseating hunger ripple through her…but strangely not as bad as when she had last past out…which didn't make any sense, but she wasn't exactly going to question a blessing.

With her eyes still closed she could feel the shades that the Slayer had slipped over her face. She could also feel the warmth and comfort of a bed that she was tied to.

It wasn't the first time she had been tied to a bed…but she supposed this was a less kinky situation then that time, too bad really, the slayer. Kennedy. She had said her name was Kennedy, she stirred something within Lenore, desire, lust, something primal and emotive.

In the long, sometimes excruciatingly painful centuries she had existed she had taken a variety of lovers, men and women with minds and personalities so diverse an outside observer could never have imagined what attracted her to them.

But in all that time she had never taken a mate, a true mate, because her kind of vampire was fundamentally different from the demonic breed. Her kind mated for life, an irrevocable and irreversible bond that could only be severed in death. A kind of enduring love and camaraderie that mortals could only dream of…there had to be some perks to vampirism after all.

But she was digressing, this wasn't the fun kinky kind of tied to the bed. Her bonds were soft, flexible and comfortable, more like the kind used on mental patients rather then prisoners. But even as she flexed her strength against them Lenore could feel the sturdiness, the strength that would more then hold her.

And as she made that effort of movement something new came to her senses, a slight prick on the back of her hand, the possibility of what it could be shocked her into opening her eyes and craning her head up to see the IV leading from her hand back to a bag of blood that was slowly being fed down into her body.

It was startling to say the least. Though it did explain the reduced hunger.

As her pupils dilated to take in her environment she saw the room was sparsely decorated, a single painting of daisies hanging against the wall over what looked like a mini fridge. Add in the poorly carpeted floor, and the single bed identical to the one she was strapped to across from her and Lenore would have to say she was in a motel room, a very cheap one at that.

Odd.

"You can come out of there, I can hear you moving, the rustle of your clothes, even the soft breaths you take and the beat of your heart," Lenore spoke into the apparently empty room, though a moment later the door furthest from her creaked open to reveal the one and only Kennedy, still dressed the way she had been when they first met, which judging by the lack of light making its way through the blinds, must have been the night before.

"Your senses are very acute," the Slayer responded in a controlled but appreciative tone.

"Thanks."

Then they just stared at one another, as each waited for the other to speak. And finally Lenore broke the silence.

"I appreciate being alive," she said softly, "but why am I alive? And why am I not only alive but being fed?" she couldn't help but have the slightest bit of distaste enter the last word. i_Fed/i_ as if she were a child or invalid.

"I don't know," Kennedy responded, just as softly

"I really don't know, maybe because you didn't kill that girl last night? Maybe because I want to interrogate you further? Or maybe because you bare a disturbing resemblance to my exes dead girlfriend." She tried to make the second idea seem the reason, but from the hesitation in her voice Lenore was guessing she really didn't know why she hadn't killed the vampire. The ex's dead girlfriend part was just…odd.

"I know not all demons are bad," she continued, "Hell not even all demonic vampires are nasty, Right now I can think of two who wouldn't hurt an innocent person."

That was a little shocking, Lenore thought, not one but two demonic vampires who didn't kill? More then likely they were just playing nice, gaining trust before they made their move. The slayer must have been mentally impaired not to see it, and she didn't know why she cared about that. Why a twinge went through her heart as the prospect of those two anonymous vampires killing Kennedy filled her mind.

"And I don't think you're the bad kind," she continued, "but then I'm also not an idiot, that's why the restraints."

"And the blood?" Lenore asked

"You seemed to need it, can't question a dead or starving vampire…believe me I've tried," the hint of coldness, of malice directed towards memories that haunted her excited Lenore, her breathing quickened ever so slightly as she visualised Kennedy interrogating, a.k.a. torturing vampires.

"Well then my darling, interrogate away," she said in a somewhat provocative manner, "Unless you'd like to continue staring at my somewhat naked body," Lenore almost physically felt Kennedy flinch at that, "I mean you must have changed these bandages," she said, nodding towards her chest, "At least twice while I was unconscious because they're all sparkly clean right now."

The comment was mostly designed to make Kennedy uncomfortable; A shrink had once told Lenore that she could be somewhat antagonistic at times, of course that was back when she still fed on human blood… and was taking considerable delight in cutting that particular shrink to ribbons. So she was surprised to feel interest radiating from the girl at her comment, she could even smell the faint blush as blood rose to the slayers cheeks.

Very interesting.

"Hey if you want to try something a little more…i_fun/i_…then talking I'm all for it," she wiggled her somewhat restrained but modestly covered hips for emphasis, "You don't even have to untie me or anything."

Kennedy opened and closed her mouth somewhat like a fish but whatever she might have been about to say was lost in the sudden splintering crash of the door, faint light streamed in as chunks of cheap wood were shot across the room and a hulking figure of a man emerged. Closely followed by two other slimmer, but equally as repugnant men.

They reeked of demonic residue, and were an assault against her senses as their game faces slid into play. The first creature roared through the room and smashed into the slayer, carrying her into and through the thin walls of the motel.

Lenore felt a little guilty about Kennedy's delayed reaction to the demonic vampire, she had been more then a little distracted by Lenore's proposal and even as the door was obliterated her attention had been riveted on the restrained vampire.

But now she was in the other room, and from what her own acute vampiric senses could hear Kennedy was holding her own against the hulking brute…which left her tied to a bed with two of her more demonic brethren wracking their eyes over her.

"Hey baby," The closer one said, his features so badly distorted that she wouldn't have been able to recognise him anytime he wasn't wearing his game face. "Don't go anywhere," he continued, his voice oozing sleaze, "After we're finished with the main course, we'll be back for dessert," and with that appallingly unoriginal line he shot through the demolished wall and into the fight against the slayer.

The third and final vampire made like he was about to follow the other two, which could have been bad. From what she had seen Kennedy was good, but three to one were never nice odds. And once they were done with her Lenore would be at their mercy.

True she was a vampire herself…but she was a different breed, and she was also in her opinion a fairly hot young woman tied to a bed. Demons were hedonistic by nature, they would fight, feed and then that only left fuck. They were also suckers for easy meat, worse then ghouls that way.

"Wait," She called out in what she hoped was a distressed, damsel like tone, "Those other two boys look fairly tough…" she even let a faint southern drawl cling to her voice. Guys, dead or alive, could never resist a good ol' southern accent. "Do ya'll really want to go fight the slayer only to have to take seconds?" She paused for effect, "or would that be thirds, on the real prize?" And once against she wiggled her hips suggestively.

The bastard didn't even have to think about it, he gave the raging fight in the other room a quick glance before hurling himself at her.

Sinking further into the bed the beast straddled her, the rank stench of his breath made her want to gag as his hands tried to molest her, leaving an oily trail over her skin.

"Woah boy, slow it down a little, enjoy yourself," she said cautiously

He just smiled savagely and started to fiddle with his zipper. She was loath to even think it, but as long as she was still tied down she was helpless. Fortunately men of all species could be manipulated more easily then a hungry puppy.

With a saucy smile she suggested, "Wouldn't you prefer to put it somewhere…a little less travelled?" and to reinforce the idea she ground her hips up so that he would glance down.

For a moment he looked puzzled, but eventually the cogs began turning and he got the idea. "Baby you keep being this helpful and maybe I'll turn ya before I'm done." Or at least that's what she thought he said, it was more like a guttural snarl of words as he tried to turn her over.

He wrenched her so hard that it felt like her arms would snap off before he noticed she was tied down. "Ya'll have to untie me first honey bunch," laying the southern on as thickly as she could "The slayer and I like to get a little kinky". A quirk of her eyebrow was all it took.

His buddy vamps were fighting for their lives in the room opposite them as he was trying to rape her, and the suggestion of kink and girl on girl action had gotten him so ready to go that he couldn't think clearly. That's if he ever could have to begin with.

With an effortless ease he snapped the restraints binding her to the bed and as he again reached out to forcefully turn her over she drew back her knee and smashed a crunching foot into his groin. The force of the kick propelled him across the room where he crashed against the mini fridge.

Thoroughly pissed off now Lenore jerked herself off the bed, her own version of a game face sliding into effect. The moron of a vampire was still too busy whimpering from where she had kicked him to notice, that was until she hauled him to his feet by his hair and executed a powerful uppercut to his chest, followed by a barrage of vicious punches, several of which cracked bone and sent spurts of blood across the walls.

"I really should say thank you," she whispered as she drew back her fist for the final blow, "Who knows how long I might have been tied up if you hadn't come along."

Then she struck, like a viper her fist crashed into his chest with all of the preternatural speed and strength she could draw upon. Her nails pierced his skin and broke his rib cage as her palm closed around his heart and she wrenched it from his chest.

For a moment all he could do was look shocked as she held his lifeless heart in her grasp, with a second thought she dropped the withered heart and lashed out as he began to collapse. Her hands taking up parallel positions on his head as she twisted it from his body. Still with that shocked look on his face.

And then it was over; a vibrant orange skeleton burned its way through his flesh and his lifeless corpse dissolved in a shower of ash.

"You said it was survival of the fittest," Lenore said as she turned, Kennedy stood in the person shaped hole in the wall, a small trail of blood working its way from her nose down across her lips. Accentuating them in the bold redness of her blood.

Her senses were flooded with the slayer, her human heart pounding in excitement, the smell of adrenalin and a fine gleam of perspiration marring her skin. She couldn't help but stand as a statue in her stillness, Lenore could fight when she had to…but even just the brief fight had revealed that Kennedy was a goddess of battle, she gloried in it. She was a creature of it.

"Where you just messing with me?" she demanded

"What?" Lenore exclaimed in surprised confusion, but she was rapidly cut off as Kennedy launched towards her. She didn't have even a heart beat to react as the slayer clutched at her face, but then their lips met and all Lenore could taste was the sweetness of Kennedy.

The slayers blood mingling with the taste of Kennedy's lips, and the feel of her tongue. With a violent passion Lenore was lifted bodily from the ground and thrown into the bed with enough force to break it, but that didn't matter as Kennedy rode her body into the mattress.

Resuming the fervent passionate chaos that ate at the two of them. It was as if there was a merging of their very essences, because all Lenore could think was Kennedy. There was nothing else.

**Kennedy's POV**

"Police!" The booming authoritative voice called out a moment before either of the two heartily satisfied women realised he was there.

Still basking in the afterglow Kennedy reacted first sliding from the ruins of the bed while she pulled the rather stained sheets across her body.

"Put your hands on your head and get down on the ground," he boomed out as a second and third officer appeared through the doorway, each with their gun drawn and pointed.

"What the…" But Kennedy trailed off before she got to the obscenity as she glanced around the devastated room and the splatters of blood coating one of the walls and the two girls as well…it looked kind of bad, but most of the blood was from the IV bag, which had ruptured at some point during the i_festivities/i. _Though she was probably going to have a tough time explaining that.

Of course what did that matter…she had just had sex with a i_vampire/i_!

She knew she'd been lonely and aching for a little bit of physical affection, it had been nearly a year and a half since she and Willow had called it quits, and nearly a year and half since she had touched another woman…But a i_vampire/i_?!

"I said you're under arrest, now get on your knees," the first officer boomed yet again. As Kennedy glanced over him she nodded to herself in approvement, the guy was basically Arnold before the steroids, buff, powerful and ready to kick ass.

But as she appraised the cops she also had to push down the instinct to fight, she was a force of nature, she was embarrassed and a little bit pissed off, but three guns pointed at her with fingers on the triggers were still a little more then she could handle…not to mention the cops weren't bad guys, they were just doing their jobs.

As she sunk to her knees she wondered aloud "Interesting how it took the police a couple of hours to get here," it had taken them a very long time…long enough for Kennedy to have completely forgotten that she had just trashed a public motel room very loudly as she dispatched her would be foes.

Sighing she glanced over at the vampire, at Lenore who was smiling as steel cuffs were clasped over her wrists.

She wasn't on good terms with the Council to begin with…now she really didn't look forward to making her report…

"You could quit smiling so much," Kennedy, outfitted in a pair of sweats that the officers had allowed her to take before she was carted off, growled in frustration as she paced the small cell she and Lenore were sharing.

Unfortunately Lenore was stuck in a vibrant orange jumpsuit that community workers usually had to wear.

"Couldn't," Lenore replied sweetly, "Not even if I wanted to."

Kennedy just growled again and continued to pace. Lenore didn't see what was so bad, admittedly they had both just been arrested but the charges wouldn't stick. After all how could two itty bitty little girls like them have trashed that room so thoroughly, and she had heard one of the cops taking a statement from a witness in one of the other rooms who had claimed to have seen three guys breaking through the door.

The blood all over the place would be a little trickier, but the medical bag that it had come in was still in the room and once it was checked out the police really didn't have anything to hold them on. They'd be out in twenty-four hours, tops. Sooner if someone could bail them out.

Of course everyone Lenore knew was now dead and buried…so not much chance of that happening from anyone she knew. But maybe Kennedy had friends in the area. She had made a phone call to someone after all.

"Do you want to tell me who you called now?" she asked,

"No," the slayer bit back.

"Oh come on, relax a little its not that bad," Lenore offered

"Says you."

"Well your right this seat isn't very comfortable, kind of hard and cold…want to warm me up a little?" She couldn't help but laugh as Kennedy glowered at her, which just pissed the slayer off more.

"Its been awhile, but I'm sure sex is meant to be a bonding experience," from outside of the cell Lenore heard a cop sputtering into his coffee, i_some people/i_, she thought.

And finally Kennedy stopped pacing, "You're a vampire," she said like it meant something.

"Your point being?"

"Gah!" Kennedy hissed in a low hushed voice, obviously aware of the guard who was out of sight but trying to listen to what they were saying, "You vampire. Me vampire slayer"

"Your point being?" Lenore asked again

"I'm suppose to kill you, not sleep with you!" she cried out in frustration. Somehow Lenore had a feeling there was more running through the slayers mind then she was saying.

"And I'm suppose to be the monstrous bitch of the west who sneaks into peoples home and eats their children." Stereotypes could be such a bitch, "Instead I've spent the last eighty years drinking cows blood and trying not to gag on it."

Kennedy paused with a thoughtful expression, "So you really didn't kill that girl the other night?"

"No," she said, "But then you already knew that or I'd currently be headless…you know if you don't want that guard hearing us you should really sit down," and she patted the cement slab beside her as she changed the subject.

"Promise I won't bite," crossing her fingers like a girl scout

The slayer just looked askance at both Lenore and the spot she had patted, "I- no"

"Well ok, but when we start yelling about vampires and killing people a little more loudly I get the feeling we won't be getting out of here so easily," once more she patted the slab beside her.

Kennedy snarled at her but reluctantly took the seat, her body brushing against Lenore as she collapsed into it. And where she touched the vampire, Lenore tingled, and she knew that Kennedy felt it as well.

"If you didn't kill the girl then who did?" She was going back to a safer subject, trying to steer clear of what had happened between them. Lenore sighed, but if it made the slayer feel more comfortable she could play along for a little while.

"One of the demonic vampires," she replied, "I followed the two of them out of the bar on the edge of the woods but I was too late to help her. I did kill him," she confirmed, "Probably just moments before you got there."

"Hmmm," Kennedy murmured, "then the vamps in the motel, were they after me…or after you?"

"Does it really matter? They're ash now."

"Good point."

But now that they had played through that little conversation Lenore could feel something was wrong. Kennedy had wrapped her arms around her knees and was rocking back and forth. And she could smell the salt in the slayers tears…she was crying? Softly, but yes she was definitely crying.

"Oh come on, I know its been a while but I still know the basics. I couldn't have been so awful you have to cry over it," Lenore exclaimed with an exasperated tone, trying to bring a little humour into the situation. Apparently she wasn't very good at it because Kennedy just started to cry harder, and Lenore was strongly of the opinion that very few people were privy to such displays of emotion from the slayer.

"No you, I, I mean, y-just hold me?" She asked softly, turning to look into Lenore's eyes, and as she did the vampire felt a pang of some shared pain. Eventually everyone succumbed to a time of turmoil and vulnerability, it looked like she had met the slayer at that point in her life.

As she wrapped her arms around Kennedy she felt the younger girl lean into her, letting herself be absorbed into Lenore's embrace. Trying to find some measure of comfort in the touch of another. And so they sat there, Kennedy letting the tears roll down her cheeks as Lenore breathed in her scent and relished in holding the slayer.

They must have sat like that for what was left of the night and into the next day as she watched the sun dawn, the light stinging her eyes until they watered as it reached through the barred window at the top of their cell.

Food was brought to them and she felt the presence of new people walking through the building, the sounds and smells of them filling her as they went to work for the day.

She first became aware of someone new, of someone who didn't belong when she heard his heart beating. Rhythmically, powerfully, it echoed through her senses in time to his steps as he was brought into the lock up itself. From the pulsing strength she could feel, Lenore was surprised to see the man it belonged to.

He was young, no more then 25, if that. Shy of six feet he had dark wavy black hair and an aura of intensity surrounding him. Broken by what could have been a serious smile if the patch across his eye hadn't made him seem so comical, in the end that smile was more of a goofy grin. But the intensity, the strength of will wasn't at all diminished by it.

He was dressed casually in a pair of faded blue jeans and a loose plaid shirt with a denim jacket hanging to his waist. And he moved like a predator. The police officer beside him paled in comparison, he was bulging against his uniform from being overly muscled either from a macho complex or steroids and at six three he towered over the one eyed man. But it was still the one eyed guy who drew her attention, and apparently he noticed her too.

"Sweet Jesus," he breathed, but whatever it was that had shocked him vanished from his face in the next instant.

Lenore was stroking Kennedy's hair as she watched the officer and the other man unlock the cell, but Kennedy was breathing softly in her lap, in a light but restful sleep.

"We have company," She whispered quietly and in an instant the slayer awoke and sat up, the last of her tears having long dried.

Glancing towards the two men she exclaimed "Xander!" in a pleased and relieved tone as she darted towards him to be embraced in a fervent hug.

"Good to see you again Kennedy" he spoke as he returned the hug, and his voice wasn't deep, but it was strong, almost as if whatever he said was meaningful.

Pulling back from him the slayer gave him an inquisitive look, "Not that I'm not happy to see you… but why are you here? And so soon?"

Xander glanced towards the police officer, and Lenore, who was still calmly seated on the cement slab before he carefully responded. "I wasn't far away when you called Giles, I was…working…"

"Ah," she replied.

"So then," he said more cheerfully, "Shall we get out of here? The charges have already been taken care of and you're free to go," looking towards Lenore he added, "You friend as well."

This time it was Kennedy's turn to look towards Lenore, searching her face, her eyes…and as she looked into Lenore's eyes a wealth of emotion was passed between them.

Sighing, almost as if in resignation she said "Come on Lenore, we have i_things/i,_" emphasis on things, "to talk about."

Xander, exercising a wisdom he had been accused of lacking once or twice chose not to say anything and just shifted his body so they could get out of the cell.

"Ok, we don't have a lot of time before Xander gets back," Kennedy whispered quickly, after dropping the two of them off at a hotel, a hotel of much better quality then the motel they had been in before, he had gone off to find some clothes for Lenore and food for the three of them.

"Why are we whispering?" Lenore whispered back mockingly as she stretched out across the king sized bed,

"I-" Kennedy whispered "Don't know," she finished in a normal tone of voice.

"Look, Xander will be back soon," she repeated as she began to rummage through a bag of her own clothes

"And that matters…?"

"He can't know about us, what happened between us I mean," she insisted urgently

"Ashamed?" Lenore taunted back, and Kennedy faintly blushed

"That's not it, putting aside the fact I'm a slayer and you're a vampire Xander doesn't have a good past when it comes to vampires and slayers having"… she struggled for a word and Lenore didn't feel any particular compulsion to help her "Relations," she finally settled on. "Different situations I know," she rambled, "but Xander also reports back to the same people I do, hell he sits on the board of directors for the new Watchers Council and while they can be pretty open minded my ex girlfriend, a mega bad ass witch is also on the council and she's his best friend and things will just get really screwed up."

_Watchers Council? _She wondered, but chose to ignore for the moment

"Your relationship didn't end well?" Lenore asked softly, the pain evident in Kennedy's voice.

"I broke her heart, and in the process pissed off most of the Council because they are all the i_bestest/i_ of friends," she explained, though she didn't elaborate on why she had broken the witches heart.

"Please, please don't say anything to Xander," she begged, "He won't stick around for long and then we can talk about, well about everything," about whatever it was the two of them were feeling for one another.

During the course of Kennedy's ramblings Lenore had perched on the edge of the bed and now the slayer was kneeling in front of her, holding tightly to the vampire's hands as she begged.

"Please?"

"Kiss me," Lenore responded

"What?"

"Kiss me," she repeated, "One kiss, right now, no adrenalin clouding our judgements. Just kiss me and I promise you he won't hear anything from me."

Kennedy looked so relieved as she pushed up from the floor and took hold of Lenore's face, pressing the warmth of her red lips against the pinkish flesh of Lenore's. Warmth, energy, it was as if life itself coursed through the intensity of that kiss. As if they should have been burned by it, and it was only very reluctantly that they both pulled away.

Lenore knew with absolute assurance then that there was something between them, something intangible, indescribable. She could wait until Xander was gone to revel in that.

Think of the devil and he shalt appear, both the slayer and the vampire heard the faint click of a key sliding into a lock, they both heard the tumblers clicking into place as the knob was twisted and with a burst of speed Lenore watched Kennedy clutch at the bag of her clothes and vanish into the bathroom.

Lenore herself lay back against the bed and let her eyes drift closed, as if that was how she had been the entire time.

Only as the door swung open did she look towards it, Xander was back.

**Kennedy's POV**

Lenore was down the hall in another room, far enough away that Kennedy couldn't hear her, which probably meant Lenore couldn't hear Kennedy and Xander either.

The slayer had slipt into a pair of tight denim black jeans and a plain black Singlet; her hair was still wet from the shower and looked like someone had just run there hands through it…which she had.

No makeup, no jewellery. She wasn't really in the mood for any trappings, she just wanted to get her conversation with Xander over with, and fast. Except for periodic reports to the council, mostly in the form of emails Kennedy hadn't had any actual contact with anyone from the new Watchers Council in nearly eighteen months.

Which was mostly her choice. She had broken Willow's heart when she left her, and after doing that she couldn't bare to face her again. And despite their best intentions the core of the new council had been formed by the survivors of Sunnydale, people who loved and cared for Willow deeply, breaking her heart had pushed Kennedy to the outskirts with everyone.

She remembered the day everything went to hell like it was yesterday…

"_Willow I have to get out of here," Kennedy exclaimed loudly, and not for the first time. For two years the scoobies and various survivors of the first council had been trying to put everything back together, well more then put it back together, trying to create it anew to withstand the onslaught of the newly chosen._

_It had been hard work, but it was finally all coming together and now that Kennedy wasn't needed for all the emergency training, now that a number of new slayers were coming to a point where the oh so mighty Buffy decreed they were ready to start fighting the forces of darkness and not just training. Now Kennedy wanted that opportunity for herself._

_Even back in Sunnydale when she was just a potential she had felt restricted, confined, with the one 'real' slayer always looking over her shoulder. And now that she had the power, now that she was a slayer, powerful, strong and one bad ass fighter in her own opinion she wanted to get out from Buffy's shadow._

_Wanted to carve out a territory somewhere to begin fighting on her own, or not entirely on her own. She wanted to go somewhere with Willow, somewhere they could have more control; somewhere they would be calling the shots._

_And with every day that passed that feeling was growing inside of Kennedy, she was becoming more restless. And something Faith had once said kept coming back to mind; slayers didn't get along well because they were never meant to exist together. There was only ever supposed to be one. And with dozens or even hundreds crammed into the Councils training centres that malice within her was growing, her temper fraying faster and faster each time any of the other slayers even began to get on her nerves._

_Buffy said it was because Kennedy was a brat, an only child who wasn't use to sharing. Of course she hadn't intended for Kennedy to hear that, but she had. And she was positive that wasn't the reason, Faith and Buffy couldn't stand to be around each other for more then a few weeks at a time, normally not even a few days. Willow said it was just because the two of them had history, but Kennedy was seeing it everywhere, the moment a slayer reached a certain point in her training, in her development she became more aggressive with the other slayers, pushing and picking at them._

_And when they hit that point the Council, or more precisely Buffy, would have them assigned somewhere else in the world. While never acknowledging the phenomenon, never admitting it, and all the while keeping Kennedy reigned in, close to home. All because of Willow._

"_I can't take it anymore!" Kennedy screamed at the love of her life, and this time it was in a very public forum. Dozens of slayers and would be Watchers were perusing the shelves of the library, but Kennedy just didn't care any more._

"_I have to leave Willow, I don't care what Buffy or Faith or anyone else in the Council says, every minute I spend here is like having a tooth drilled and it just keeps getting worse!! There's no outlet for me, no demons, no vampires to slay," and with such a heavy slayer population in the centre of England of course there was nothing for her to hunt._

"_Kennedy…" Willow said, trying to break through her rant_

"_No Willow, don't say anything. There is nothing here for me, except you," and she felt such pain ring through her heart as she said that, she could see her expression mirrored in Willows face as she realised where this was going_

"_You and Xander and Buffy, you never want to be apart, the best of friends, and since my being gone would hurt you I'm stuck here, they won't ever assign me somewhere else."_

_Goddess, Kennedy couldn't have imagined anything in the world hurting as badly as it did right then. She was going to break Willow's heart, but it was either that or be slowly driven insane. She was a slayer; she needed to move, to fight, to fight for her life even, without death the slayer was nothing. Demons death, her death, it didn't matter, death and killing was what the slayer breathed, it was what animated them, made them who they were. Without it they were worthless._

"_Convince them to let me go, or come with me," she begged her lover. One word from Willow was all it would have taken for the Council to assign Kennedy somewhere, just one word…but she was so happy in England, friends, magic, learning, teaching. It was the essence of who she was as much as death was the essence of the slayer._

"_Don't do this baby," Willow said, tears welling in her eyes as her skin went all red and blotchy._

_Goddess, it hurt so badly._

"_Please don't do this," And Kennedy hated seeing the loss, the desperation searing through Willows soul, but she had no choice._

"_I'm leaving you," Kennedy said quietly, but all of those slayers and watchers who were trying hard to pretend they weren't listening heard exactly what she said, and if they hadn't watching Willow sink to her knees and begin babbling tears would have told them._

_Her sorrow cut through Kennedy worse then any blade; her despair, her anguish and she wanted to kill herself for being the cause of it. And she wasn't even done yet._

"_I don't love you anymore," she lied, and then she walked out of the library. Leaving Willow to her agony as Kennedy descended into her own abyss, curled her own pain and despair around her like a blanket, to fortify her against what she was going to do next. _

_Goddess she didn't want to, she wanted to go back into that room and beg for forgiveness. But if she was going to survive, if she was ever going to cut the leash that was strapped to her throat she had to do something more. Something so devastating the Council, the scoobies would send her so far away she would never have to deal with what she had done. _

_She stalked through stark, empty hallways until she came to the living quarter and to René. René was a slayer, one that Kennedy had brought back to the Watchers Council in the early days when she had still been allowed to travel, to be useful. René had made no secret that she was interested in Kennedy, and when she couldn't worm her way between her and Willow she began to earn a reputation among the young slayers as somewhat of a player. Taking pleasure in destroying other relationships, and she had never exactly been subtle to Kennedy that she was just waiting for the day she got tired of Willow…like that would ever happen._

_The door to René's room was solid oak, and it splintered violently under the enraged kick Kennedy directed towards it. In an instant she took in the room and the young man and woman on the bed. Fraternisation between slayers and watchers wasn't exactly prohibited, but everyone was encouraged to be discrete. _

"_Out," Kennedy decreed, her voice oozing with malice and the young man paled violently before taking off, too scared to remember little things like his pants._

_René was less disturbed, she lazily rose to her feet and began to ask "And what is it I have done this time?" in her little French accent._

_Kennedy responded by roughly grabbing the younger slayer by the hair and dragging her down to meet Kennedy's lips. At first she was shocked, but she got over that quickly. Melting into Kennedy and hurriedly dragging at her clothes._

_Kennedy was repulsed by herself; she wanted to take a mace to her wrists because an axe would end it to quickly, too painlessly. And sometime later when René was in the throws of ecstasy Willow caught up to them…_

_The Council had shipped Kennedy off to the middle of nowhere Mexico the next day._

Xander snapped her back to reality, but she hadn't heard a thing he said… "Sorry, can you repeat that…my attention was wandering."

"Lenore looks uncomfortably like an old friend," he repeated

"Tara," she said, Willow's second lover and the first woman she had given her heart to.

"In fact she looks identical to Tara, except for the longer hair and paler skin," he continued

"Its not her," Kennedy said simply

"I know that," Xander snapped, his unflappable cool cracking, "But I read the incident report, when the police found the two of you, you were in bed. Together." Kennedy just shrugged in response.

"Is this some new way to try and torture Willow?" he snarled, "find someone who looks like her dead girlfriend? What were you going to do, take pictures and send them to her?" and as he ranted he drew into striking distance.

"What the fuck are you talking about, I would never do anything like that to Willow-" she had to bite her lip to keep from saying she loved her.

"Right. You'd never do anything like break her heart in a nice public setting and then start effing another girl where you knew she'd find you," then he did something very unXander like, he hit her. Hard.

The blow rocked her head back, and she felt the blood beginning to dribble from a split lip as she looked back at him.

"Do you really want to go there Xander? You know what the slayer is, what I can do," she said quietly

"Your not a slayer," he snarled back, "A slayer protects people, she doesn't hurt them."

"Actually no," she snapped back, "A slayer kills. That is what the slayer does, she hunts, and she fights and she kills, the fact that killing helps people is just a happy coincidence."

He punched her again, she could have stopped him. She was fast enough, but she let it come, something deep inside hated herself for what she had done to Willow, and that part of herself was glad to take the punishment. She hated what she had done, but it was that or let herself die piece by piece, her soul withering.

Xander looked at her then, and his eyes flicked down to the blood welling up across his knuckles and he took two big steps back from her and began to shake his head in disgust.

"You make me sick Kennedy, and the fact you had the nerve to call the Council after what you did-"

"Ok your turn to shut up you big arrogant, self righteous prick. I am a slayer. First and foremost, my relationship with you, with Willow, with any member of the Council is irrelevant. Something you all forgot!" She screamed at him "If any of you bastards had just let me go occasionally, given me a little leeway to be what I am meant to be I wouldn't have had to break Willows heart!"

"You're trying to blame us?" He cried back indignantly

"No," She said, calmly, strongly. "What I did was my decision and mine alone, all of the blame rests with me, just like the repercussions. But maybe you and the others should try thinking a little more, I mean hell you and Buffy and Willow loved being together so much the three of you were permanently in England, and because none of you wanted Willow to be upset or distressed I wasn't allowed to leave. Ever. Not even to patrol because Willow might worry. It was killing me to be so boxed in, it really felt like parts of me were dying."

"Buffy was there as much as you were, she didn't seem to have any problems," Xander argued back, but she could feel something had changed, something in his tone of voice showed that he was finally starting to think.

"Buffy, the oh so grand matriarch of the slayers came and went as she pleased, every other week she was making quick visits to some demonically populated area so she could vent, so she could be what she was made to be…But I was never allowed to do that!" She growled back

"I had to leave, and the only way any of you would let me was if I broke Willows heart, I knew the Council would arbitrarily boot me out of England after that," She watched the shock cross his face as he realised she was absolutely right.

"You almost destroyed Willow so you could turn us against you?"

"It was the only way," Kennedy insisted, "I begged Willow to come with me, to let us leave together. But she was so happy there with all of you, with the coven and with everything else. So happy she couldn't even begin to see how miserable I was."

She was crying now, and she was so sick and tired of crying, of being vulnerable and letting other people see how vulnerable she was.

Xander saw her pain and with some effort he managed to drag himself off the topic of Willow as he tried to put himself in a more professional frame of mind. "When," he paused for a second to clear his throat, "When you called the Council I was collecting a newly called Slayer to take back to England, they also asked me to investigate a series of mutilated bodies in Dallas. But seeing as you are a senior slayer I'm assigning Dallas to you," he said in a matter of fact way.

He might have sounded distant, but it was an olive branch…and she knew how hard it was for Xander to offer it. Guess something she had said got through to him.

"There's a preliminary file of what I know in the case," he nodded towards a metallic brief case on the hotel rooms desk, a case that she hadn't even noticed was there until that moment. What an observant slayer she was.

"And I think I should go now," he said, "we both have a lot to think about," and he sounded like he meant it "And I'd prefer not to start yelling again," he tried to add a goofy grin to it. "After all you might hit back next time."

Then he left and Kennedy slumped down across the bed, emotionally exhausted after having relived that awful day and the ever so polite discussion she and Xander had just had.

"Dallas?" Lenore repeated "As in Texas. Now see I'm sure you said something about talking…"

Kennedy just gave her an exasperated look, "I'm fairly sure you heard everything Xander and I said."

"Said implies a quiet civilised conversation," Lenore shot back, not bothering to deny the fact she had more or less eaves dropped on the conversation after the two had started screaming at each other.

The vampire had also very pointedly _**not**_ said anything about Kennedy's split lip, though she felt the sudden urge for a little blood letting in that bastards direction. Kennedy was a chance for Lenore, a precarious hold on life and love again, and that made Xander enemy number one for having hit the slayer.

While the council member and Kennedy had been 'talking', Lenore had taken the opportunity to shower and change into some actual clothes rather then the embarrassingly bright orange jumpsuit she had been wearing.

Next time the police arrested her after having sex and destroying a motel room, she planned to have her clothes with her…or maybe just not get arrested again. Yeah, that could work, she thought.

But back on the subject of clothes, the bastard Xander had actually had the sense to stick with something simple, not too baggy dark brown cargos; a loose fitting full arm dark green shirt and her jacket was army fatigue style, ankle high brown boots finished the image off. Not pretty, but simple and more or less her size.

And in a slightly out of character move for her Lenore had pulled her hair back with a band, a few loose strands of uncooperative hair trailing over her face.

She stalked across the room until she was a breath away from Kennedy; "You still said something about talking, but wait," she added before the slayer could say anything "Let me get you started. I'm a vampire, you're a slayer…whatever happened before you didn't really mean, it was a fluke, an accident, a mistake. Now I should get out of here before you decide the only good vampire is a dead vampire."

It was meant to be controlled, a hard and fast summary but she could hear the quiet desperation in her own voice…it still hadn't been that long since she had lost everyone she loved, and as if she needed the additional reminder she could feel the faint stirrings of her hunger rearing its ugly head.

Then Kennedy kissed her again, and it was most definitely hard and fast, just a lightning quick lean into Lenore with her head tilted up so that their lips could meet.

"We're going to have to work on those insecurity issues of yours," Kennedy quipped in a sassy tone as she smiled provocatively

"There's something here," she said in a more serious way, "something between us, and yeah I'm not totally with the whole vampire thing…that's just a little creepy still…but you don't seem to be a bad person and I want to know you, I want to be with you against everything my brain is telling me…so I guess its really down to you now to see if we could have something. I'm the slayer, I'm going to be on the move constantly, more often then not I'm going to be fighting for my life and if you're with me you'll probably be fighting for yours too."

Lenore just smiled at her then, she'd practically summed up a vampires existence.

"I want you too," she replied quietly, slipping her hands into Kennedy's and as she did so she could feel the steady rhythm of the slayers heart beat quickening with each hopeful word Lenore spoke, "For the rest, my breed of vampire are nomadic, constantly moving to stay a head of the hunters and I already have to fight for my life more often then not," she flashed back to Gordon Walker then, the bastard who had murdered her family.

"Not to mention I'll be an asset in your work," As the slayer quirked her head, Lenore elaborated, "I'm as fast as you."

"I'm as strong as you."

"My senses are more acute then yours," each sentence being punctuated with the adamant strength of her conviction

"And last but not least there's only one way I can die…but," and there always had to be a but, what was life without one. "I'll also be a liability to you," she didn't want to drive any more wedges between her and the slayer, but it was better to say it now then wait.

"There was a reason you didn't want the Council Member to know what I was, and in the places your going to be going, the circles you'll be travelling there will be hunters. Men and women who will recognise me for what I am and they won't like it."

"And then," Kennedy interrupted her, "If they push us we'll show them what a vampire and a slayer can really do when they're motivated," and as she said that there was a sinister, almost anticipatory gleam in her eyes.

With the rush of a potential fight stirring their adrenalin ever so slightly the two embraced one another with a violent passion, but before they lost all sense of reason Kennedy got in one final line.

"No biting," she whispered, her breath coming warm as she dug her teeth into Lenore's ear.

On the Road

Splat. Bug after bug met their end upon Kennedy's windshield, and Lenore faintly wondered if she too was going to meet her end on account of Kennedy.

Vampires were rowdy. They were loud. They liked to drink and let loose. In short most of them were thrill seekers, but Kennedy's driving took that to a whole new level.

In some kind of sleek silver Porsche they were doing nearly a hundred and eighty miles an hour along highways and back roads. It was insane. It was reckless. And it was turning Lenore on.

"You know a Porsche isn't exactly an inconspicuous car," Lenore said smoothly, Kennedy just smiled and kept her eyes pasted to the road.

"Do you mind cranking up the AC? Steams coming off the road, and its pretty damn hot in here as well."

Lenore obliged, cool air blasting out towards her.

"Nothing to say about the car?" Lenore asked

Again the slayer just grinned without taking her eyes from the road, "We can pick up something a little more low key in Dallas."

"Thank you."

"Though I notice your not complaining about the sunnies," Kennedy shot back and Lenore grimaced a little and sat up straighter, pulling out of her slouched position as she adjusted the 'sunnies'.

No matter what breed you were, vampires and sunlight still didn't go well together, but since there were time constraints on getting to Dallas the two of them couldn't exactly wait till nightfall. Which had created a problem when Lenore had stepped out of the hotel lobby and into the bright morning light, an instant migraine had sliced its way through her skull and the slayer had to support her as she hobbled towards the car. More then a little embarrassing.

But if she was going to be useful she had to be able to move around in daylight, and blindingly painful headaches accompanied with fiercely stinging and watering eyes was going to make that difficult.

Lenore hadn't even noticed when Kennedy slipped away and returned a half hour later with a pair of illegally dark shaded sunnies. They were so dark that for a human to wear them would have been like being in a pitch-black room, but with Lenore's heightened visual acuity they were perfect. Not enough sunlight was filtering in to be uncomfortable but she could still see perfectly.

They were also ungodly expensive. More then a grand for a pair of very dark, face fitting shades with some kind of designer name on the frames…Kennedy was also right that Lenore wasn't complaining about them.

"The shades are a necessity," Lenore piped back, and again Kennedy just smiled without looking at her.

"And at the moment, so is the car. A girl's gotta have an image you know, and there's nothing wrong with going a little fast."

"Fast and suicidal are two different things… but new topic. Except for the way I feel I barely know anything about you," Lenore was very aware of the tension that sprang through Kennedy, it was subtle, just the slightest shift in posture and a more rigid grip on the wheel, but it was definitely there.

"Want do you want know?" Kennedy asked cautiously

"I want to know you," Lenore replied, "I want to know what you like, what you don't like, what kind of a family you have."

Kennedy was quiet for a few minutes as she thought, the road and surroundings blurring around them.

"I like girls, I like pizza, I like Gone with the Wind. I don't like anime or break ups or family get togethers. I'm an only child, my parents are both alive and my family is rich." There was a definitive silence around the family parts, but then Lenore wasn't too eager to start talking about her family either, hers were all dead.

"And what about you Lenore, What do you like, what don't you like? What's you family like?" and there was more then a tinge of bitterness in her voice

"My family is all dead," she replied softly, "And I like girls too, and guys, I like to drink sometimes, to dull the pain of life and as far as eating goes, I don't need to eat so I don't. I don't like people who think they know everything and that their way is the only way."

They were quiet for a long time after that, mile after mile rushing by before Kennedy hesitantly asked, "Where do you get your blood from? I mean you have to drink."

Lenore quirked her head and really looked towards Kennedy who was carefully keeping her eyes forward and not glancing anywhere else.

"I told you, I drink cow's blood most of them."

"Yeah but from where? Do you like stock up at the butchers or do you tap a cow in a field somewhere or what? Because I know a couple of vamps who usually just get a couple pints from the butchers, one of them even crunched up weetbix in his blood, said it gave it texture."

Lenore couldn't help but laugh, hysterical, crazed laughter. Eighty years she had been drinking the blood of cattle, and never once had she thought of getting it from the Butchers, it was so simple, so easy and so much harder to trace then numerous cattle mutilations. Gods sometimes she felt like a simpleton.

"Are you ok?" Kennedy asked hesitantly,

"Y-yes," Lenore stuttered back through a barrage of laughter-induced tears.

"Its just in eighty years I never even thought of stocking up at the butchers, as you put it. So simple and it would make life so much easier, maybe I'll even try the whole weetbix thing," Kennedy looked a little green at the thought of that but the effect of Lenore's enthusiasm was contagious eventually she laughed a little as well.

Define Hell.

The absence of hope, utter despair consuming you. If you went with that definition then the toad shaped demon that was getting its ass handed to it by Kennedy was in hell, because there was no chance it was surviving the night.

Lenore was a hunter, instinctual, powerful, a deadly predator when the situation required it. But as for tracking some random unknown killer monster down, she was out of her depth. And since it was Kennedy's assignment Lenore was just riding shotgun as the slayer ploughed her way through cemeteries and parks, pulverising anything of the supernatural variety that even blinked in her direction.

Once more Lenore was seeing the ferocious slaughter that the slayer was capable of, the slaughter which revealed the death in which she thrived. And it was exhilarating.

Apparently Kennedy was done with the toad demon, she slipped past a flailing limb and took the slimy creatures head between her hands and snapped the neck. The sound was surprisingly quiet, usually a broken neck resounded through Lenore's mind. The extinction of a life in one audible strike.

Strange.

"Not that I don't appreciate your methods, but shouldn't you have questioned it?" Lenore asked as Kennedy wiped the beast's blood on her jeans.

"Tonight isn't about questions, that's tomorrow night," Kennedy replied knowingly

"So what's the point of tonight?"

Kennedy sighed in a dramatic, over the top fashion, even going as far as placing the back of her hand against her forehead in a fainting motion. "Tonight my pretty, is about making a reputation."

Lenore just looked at her quizzically.

"This city," waving her arms in a general circle around her, "hasn't seen the likes of a hunter, or slayer in awhile. So the resident demons are getting cocky, thinking they are worth more then they are. The point of tonight is to cut a path of blood and entrails, and remind them that nastier, deadlier things stalk the night then them."

"Tonight I scare the shit out of them. So tomorrow night the run of the mill beasties will be shaking in their beds. And only the guys who think they are real bad asses will be running around."

"So we find the monster you're hunting for by process of elimination."

"Exactly," Kennedy replied, beaming a smile at Lenore.

"I guess that makes sense."

Kennedy was about to quip back when they were interrupted by a short stifled laugh. A laugh that soon became a booming echo which reverberated around the two of them.

And as the two predators glanced around trying to find the source of the laughter they came together, back to back. The wet grass squeaked a little under their feet, but their search produced nothing. Someone who they couldn't see, hear or smell was laughing at them.

"I liked your plan," A voice echoed around them, coming from all directions, yet none. The voice was cool, controlled, and very masculine, edged with a condescending tone

"But I just couldn't help but come out and play tonight. As some runt of a human once said, Why put off till tomorrow what you can do today?" and that was the end of the conversation.

The air shimmered in front of Lenore, almost like heat rising from the ground, only it was a chilly night. And from that shimmer protruded a humanoid arm, bulging with over emphasised muscle, and a claw like hand that gleamed under the pale moonlight.

Lenore saw this in the fraction of a second before the creatures claw sliced down across her chest, cutting deeply as the blood sluggishly tried to flow to the surface. She let out a small gasp of surprise before he struck again, this time with the opposite hand.

The claw once again sliced through her flesh with ease, only this time he latched on, his claw digging a hold into her chest as he lifted and hurled her across the small space of the park. With a clear smashing sound she crashed against a thick tree and slid to the ground.

Oh sweet Jesus, how that had hurt.

From her supine position Lenore watched that shimmering figure slice towards Kennedy, but she was no longer there. With a rough pivot the slayer twisted away from the bladed claws and in a series of humanly impossible gymnastic feats she dodged a barrage of attacks. Lenore couldn't even see the creature, aside from the shimmers and she was willing to bet Kennedy couldn't see it either. Yet she avoided it as if the thing was clear as day and moving in slow motion.

Finally the slayer stopped dodging, in a sudden and obviously unexpected movement she threw herself forward and landed a front kick deep into the things gut, and as it bent over in pain it was clearly visible for one brief moment.

The creature was nearly seven foot tall and had a glowing, almost silvery sheen to its skin. Muscles bulged across its entire body, but ignoring the claws, the only other thing that really screamed out how human it wasn't were its eyes. They were too large for the otherwise handsome face, and they were completely filled with a deep vibrant red which was pulsating, no pupil, no iris, just red.

And then it was gone again, but too slowly. With each blow Kennedy rained down on the creature its shimmers became more and more substantial until he was almost entirely visible.

He was kneeling, or more accurately he had collapsed to his knees, blood streaming from its mouth and nose, gashes covering his exposed flesh where blunt force trauma had burst his silvery skin. Skin that was fast taking on a crimson sheen. As she watched the creature's defeat Lenore felt her own body healing, the gashes over her chest had already stopped bleeding and were growing shallower as the skin knitted together. With a small amount of effort and even less pain she was able to stand.

The damage to her shirt being the only reminder of the wounds that would have proven fatal to any human.

With a speed akin to lightning a small blade appeared in Kennedy's hand and she lunged, the knife darting into the beasts throat with a thick, wet, meaty sound, and with a psychotic glee the slayer wrenched the blade across with a spurt of blood which splattered across Kennedy's mouth and neck, half severing the creatures neck and leaving his spine exposed.

Before its body could even begin to droop the slayer spun and as if she were still fighting for her life she drove that same blade through the creature's heart, gazing into his eyes as the light flickered out. His vibrant red eyes dimming until they were black as coal. She didn't bother to remove the blade, just pivoted until she was facing Lenore.

And with the beasts blood on her hands and face she kissed the vampire, a smooth but excited kiss as she pressed into her lover.

Lenore couldn't help but respond in more ways then one; she reacted to the kiss and the blood, both exciting her. The blood was sweet and ever so potent, just the spurt on Kennedy's lips was seeping into her system and she couldn't begin to describe how that felt, the raw coursing strength that flowed through her, that drove her. She could feel her face changing, the blood lust pouring through her, the pricks of her teeth elongating, the better vision as her eyes darkened, the pupils dilating.

Liquid lust swept through her like molten lava, it burned her fiercely, but she needed more, she wanted more.

With a violence bred of hunger she bodily lifted the slayer and slammed her against a tree, Kennedy's legs closed around her with a crushing strength and it only felt good as they mashed their mouths together harder.

God she could taste the slayers blood then, her teeth cutting into Kennedy's lips and tongue, slicing through them like butter as she fed from the slayers mouth, sucking down the blood to draw it out faster.

If the demons blood had been molten lava, then Kennedy was a super nova of heat and passion, and she wanted everything, she needed everything. With a savage snarl Lenore wrenched herself away from the slayer, but the blood lust was riding her too hard.

Even trying to pull away from her, Lenore couldn't bring herself to see the slayers pale complexion, the glazed almost drugged expression. All she could see, all she could feel was the pulse of the slayers body, the blood just beneath the surface, the rhythmic throbbing of the artery in her neck. Lenore's hand wrested lightly on that pulse and she fought, fought hard to stay away. But she could feel herself loosing and Kennedy was too far-gone to stop her.

With the weakness of blood loss Kennedy's legs finally fell away from Lenore's waste and the vampire knew she was about to kill her new lover, she knew it with that gut certainty that people rarely have. But she and Kennedy were both creatures of death, they lived and breathed it and they both knew when it was coming.

Lenore still fought the need, if it had just been the need for blood she might have won, but she needed Kennedy in everyway it was possible to need someone…how could she have fallen so hard and so fast?

But the thoughts didn't really matter as she bit into Kennedy's throat, she despised herself while she loved and relished that first hot spurt of blood as it coated her mouth and slid down her throat, warming her inside as she slipped her tongue into the wound she had made, wiggling it inside the warm muscle while she willed herself to die.

She was in Hell then, with a capital H. No hope, only all consuming despair…and that glorious rush of blood.

**Kennedy's POV**

_She was blacking in and out of consciousness, blissfully dampened to most of the pain, she had been out of it since the park, unconscious as the ambulance arrived and she had just started to become aware again, her eyes flickering open as she reached the hospital._

"_We have a Hispanic woman, early twenties with wounds to the face and throat and severe blood loss," One of the Interns cried out as the gurney was pushed through a set of double doors._

_She heard the doors snap closed behind them as a young female Resident took the interns place, of course she didn't know the woman was a Resident at the time._

"_Pulse is slow, but constant," someone called from her peripheral vision_

"_Christ," a second intern said, "This is one tough chick," he announced as he took the EMT's place holding a bandage against the woman's sluggishly bleeding neck._

"_Prep an OR for immediate surgery," The Resident called out, and glancing towards a chart she continued, "She's going to need an immediate blood transfusion as well."_

_Before they could make it to the Operating Room Kennedy's breathing became raspy as she struggled for air, her lungs hurt more with each breath_

"_Shit, her throats swelling, we need to intubate now," her vision was darkening again, but she felt something being shoved down her throat and she gasped around it._

_But then everything was gone and darkness reigned supreme._

During the surgery the slayer slipped into a coma as her weakened body tried to accelerate the healing process. She was alive, but was breathing, peeing and being fed through tubes. All the while a suicidally depressed vampire was alternating between stalking the hallways of the hospital and clutching at Kennedy's hand in desperation.

**England; Three Days Since Kennedy entered her Coma.**

"She's in a coma?" Willow asked quietly

"Yes," Xander said just as softly as he took a seat beside the witch, letting himself sink into the warm leather as the heat of the open fire filled the room.

He had just returned to England when he got the call, he hadn't even made it back to the Council's main residence, and he hated to be the one to tell Willow but both Buffy and Giles were out of contact in Africa, and being her oldest friend that dubious responsibility had fallen to him.

Kennedy had broken Willow's heart so badly that the witch was still grieving, but she also still loved Kennedy so deeply that Xander could read the new pain as it crossed her face.

"I'm sorry Willow," he said as he wrapped an arm around her, giving her what little comfort he could.

For a time they just sat together, with Willow's quiet sobs soaking into his shirt.

"Slayers have come out of comas before," Willow suddenly said, "I mean Faith did, and Kennedy's not hurt that badly."

"She could come out of it soon," he offered, "She is pretty strong for a brat," he didn't want to tell her not to get her hopes up.

Secretly, deep down he almost wished Kennedy would just die. Because nothing short of death was going to let Willow move on from her. And Willow needed to move, Kennedy obviously had, or_ ihad she/i_?

He thought to back to the rather loud conversation they had had before he left, how Kennedy had accused the New Council of killing her bit by bit, denying her want it meant to be a slayer. How she had begged Willow to leave with.

A gentle sigh escaped his lips; nothing in life was ever easy.

"What are we going to do now?" Willow asked, turning her tear stained face, and still watering eyes to look at Xander.

"Someone needs to be with her until she wakes up, or we could have her brought her?" she suggested hopefully while Xander internally recoiled at the idea, with Kennedy's Tara look alike for a new girlfriend it would be suicidal to have Kennedy brought to England.

"I'll send-"

"No." Willow said quietly, but with a resolved voice, "No, I'll go."

"Willow," he protested

"No Xander. I'm a member of this Council as well, and I am going to go, maybe there's something I can do to help her, but I need to be there."

"Willow," he tried again

"Xander I've been walled up with my pain and misery for too long, I've been ignoring everything else, I've practically shunned you and Buffy and Giles. Its time I start acting like the witch I am."

"Willow," he tried a final time

"Resolve face," She said stubbornly while putting on a poor imitation of what had once been the infamous Willow resolve face. The face that no man, woman, nor beast had dared to defy once upon a time, and suddenly presented with that particular Willow gesture he was confronted with the fact that he was attempting to deny the most powerful witch in the world what she wanted.

Not a healthy move for anyone, not even her best friend.

Even if she did stay in England she would sulk, and after Kennedy had left the first time her sulking had turned into raging thunderstorms as she lost some of unconscious control over her magic's. He shuddered to think of that happening again.

"Book me the earliest flight," She ordered as she stood up.

"Alright," he agreed, "But your not going alone."

"Xander, one of the senior council has to be in residence at all times."

"I know that," he said gruffly, the rule had seemed like a good idea at the time. "But that doesn't mean your not taking some backup, one of the more experienced slayers and one of the coven," he said thoughtfully

"Xander-"

This time he cut her off, "No Willow. You want to go? Fine. But your taking a slayer and another witch with you, you can be stubborn about it and I'll pick them or you can pick them yourself. Your choice."

"Not much of a choice," she grumbled half-heartedly

"Live with it," he replied, but his voice was light, more of jesting tone then the serious tone the rest of their conversation had been in.

As he stalked out of the room he had the vague nagging feeling that there was something he'd forgotten. But it wasn't until Willow was already gone that it suddenly hit him.

"Shit!" He muttered, "I forgot to tell her about Kennedy's girlfriend…"

**Dallas Central Hospital**

Lenore clutched at Kennedy's hand as if it were a lifeline, she was painfully aware of her lover lying limp on the white hospital sheets. The soft sounds of her breathing through a tube. The slayer resonated inside of her, for a time they were sharing the same blood.

It flowed through both of their veins, bonding them, heightening their connection to an entirely new level. And serving only to remind Lenore of what she had done, she had been weak, unable to control her hunger, her need for the slayer. And that weakness may have just killed Kennedy.

Through teary eyes Lenore focused on the cotton bandages hiding the slayers ravaged throat, even if she did wake up she was going to be scarred for a very long time. Her beautiful skin ruined.

The vampire held Kennedy's hand to her mouth and kissed it, and once more she was pained. This time by the clammy coolness of her lovers hand, always before it had been unusually warm, as alive as the rest of her. But now she was fading, her flesh growing cold, dark rings embedding themselves beneath eyes that were slowly sinking back into her skull.

As she gazed down at her comatose lover Lenore's mind drifted back to a conversation the two of them had had on their way to Dallas.

_After the butcher conversation, Lenore had set herself to enjoying the breeze as it rushed across her face and played havoc with her hair. The insane speeds that Kennedy drove were actually kind of relaxing once she got past thinking she was about to be obliterated in one blaze of glory as the Porsche ripped up the road._

_For a while she just stared across at the slayer, taking in the warmth of her eyes, the flush of her skin, the beaming exuberance of her life. Lenore was no walking corpse, but she wasn't truly as vivaciously alive as Kennedy was._

_Perhaps it was just the weariness of time, or maybe just the draining qualities of the sunlight beating down upon her. With the sun down, and the moon high, with her pale skin reflecting the light of night, that was when Lenore felt alive, when she felt more a part of the world. Daylight just plain sucked._

_And maybe it was that depressing quality of sunlight, which allowed the question to slip from her lips…_

"_Have you ever wondered what it might be like to live forever?" she asked softly_

_She felt the tension rise, saw from her peripheral vision the way Kennedy suddenly sat rigid, tense, the muscles in her arms straining with her death grip on the wheel._

"_I don't want to be a vampire," she replied, almost as softly, but the tension ringing through her voice was abundantly clear._

"_I didn't ask if you wanted to be a vampire, just if you ever wondered what it might be like to live forever, to measure time in decades rather then hours…to see the world change."_

_Kennedy was silent for a long time then, long silences seemed to be the theme of the car ride._

"_When," she coughed, "When I was a little girl, I use to think it would be so cool to have super powers and to live forever. Even after the old Council told me what I might one day become, what really went bump in the night, I still thought it would be cool."_

"_What changed your mind?" Lenore asked quietly, she heard the soft sigh in Kennedy's voice as the slayer let the tension go and spoke again_

"_I got super powers," she paused "And it was cool. But they changed me, becoming the slayer changed who I was; made me more, but it also made me less, less human, before I was the slayer I liked to fight, but now? Now I **love** to kill. After that I stopped seeing just the benefits, don't get me wrong I'm still a fun loving girl at heart, but now I look at all the demons and monsters out there who don't age in any normal way, and how time has twisted them. Destroyed what they once enjoyed, made them sadistic, brutal, because it was the only way for them to survive so long, to maintain a measure of sanity."_

_She had felt an overwhelming sadness then, she was an immortal after all, was that to be her fate?_

And as if Lenore couldn't feel any worse then she already did, one of the Nurses had left the morning paper where's it headline could catch her eye.

_**Three More Dead. Mutilations Continue!**_

She barely had to glance over the article to see it was the same pattern Kennedy had been sent to investigate. Either they'd killed the wrong demon, or they hadn't killed the demon at all. Which wasn't actually that much of a stretch, Kennedy pummelled the creature and broke its neck, a broken neck wouldn't have killed Lenore so it would be a little egotistical to think that only her breed of vampire could recover from that kind of injury…

…But what did it mean? What should she do? That thing had tossed her around like a rag doll, she didn't know what it was, and she didn't know how to kill it…she was scared. She was scared of it. She was scared for Kennedy. She was scared of herself.

And she was damn tired of being scared, tired of being an emotional wreck. Tired of being so weak. She wanted to be her old self again…but her old self had had a family, friends, her old self had run with a pack, her pack. God how she missed them sometimes, Eli especially.

He could be so forceful sometimes, insisting that it was kill or be killed. That they had to do more then survive. Sometimes it had made him seem cold, distant. But he had been the heart of her pack, the strength from which she had taken her own strength.

His death had hurt her more then any other, and she faintly found herself imagining killing Walker. Slowly. Painfully. No quick, frenzied, hurried feeding for survival.

"I barely know you Kennedy," she whispered, again kissing her lovers hand, "Hell I don't even know if you're officially my girlfriend or whether we're just sleeping together…but I think I know what you'd want right now. You'd want that monster put in the ground for good. You'd want all of this to mean something. And that I can do for you, when you wake up. And you will wake up, I'm not giving you a choice on that, you can rest assured that its dead."

She slowly stood up; reluctantly releasing the slayers hand, taking comfort in being able to touch her still, because when she woke up it might all be over. Lenore was a vampire; she had bitten Kennedy, taken her blood in a moment of giddy uncontrollable lust, and she believed she was going to have to pay for that lack of control. But for the time being, she was going to make something else pay.

**Demon Bar**

In full vampiric fashion Lenore roared her fury, a mouth full of elongated needle point teeth snapped open and closed, her eyes a reflective black as she flipped a demonic vampire by the throat and brought his body crashing down onto the bar.

It shuddered under the impact and a faint layer of grime rose from it, the other vampire grunting in pain as its body had smashed down over several glasses. Shattering them and impaling its back.

Growling in a feral fashion Lenore felt the spittle flinging from her teeth as she bent over the mans upside down face, he might have been an attractive man under normal circumstances, but in the face of a bitchy, pissed off vampire beating the shit out of it…he was less then charming, his own vampiric game face horribly contorting his features.

Despite her own inner fury she found herself studying the differences between them, his entire upper face was morphed inwards, as if someone had added skin coloured putty and pushed it together. His eyes were tinged with a yellow, almost vibrant demonic light and his teeth were jagged, more serrated then her own.

While she was studying him she was also aware of the bar that had rapidly cleared out around her, except for the bartender huddling in a corner and a few stray beasts still trying to make it out of the dingy little room, with a half seconds thought she pivoted, throwing a chest high round house kick squarely into a second vampires ribs, the cracks were distinctly audible, as was the meaty sound of the broken bones perforating the creatures lungs, it was a good thing demonic vampires didn't really need to breathe, otherwise he might have been in trouble, as it was he was just in a great deal of pain.

Lenore just vaguely tracked him through the corner of her eye as he hit a bar stool and rolled to the ground. All the while she had kept a choking death grip on her first victim, he was snarling and struggling, but compared to her he was still young, not more then two or three years dead, making her far more powerful.

"The red eyed beast," she snarled into his face, "Where is he?"

"What?" he tried to say, but it came out more as a hacking burst of breath, very rancid breath, breath that was stained with both very old and very recent blood.

"The red eyed beast that has been mutilating women here in Dallas," she elaborated, "he can shimmer into nothingness, be unseen. And I will only ask once more vampire, where is he?"

"I don't know what your talki-" she cut him off as she dug her slightly claw like hands through the soft flesh of his throat, the next moment wrenching that chunk of throat from his body. The bloody mess sat in her hand as the creature gargled for breath.

The saddest thing was he wouldn't even die, he would want to, choking on his own blood, in unimaginable agony until his flesh could heal. But not needing oxygen to live, he would just flail around in a puddle of his own growing blood

He deserved the pain. But she would be merciful, in a rising axe kick she raised her leg to her face, and in the next instant dropped it down with such force that the vampires head, which was lying just off the edge of the bar, was torn from the rest of its body. Instant decapitation thanks to the lack of a throat to absorb some of the impact.

She watched with a degree of pleasure as a flaming orange glow radiated out from the vampire's skeleton, burning free from its prison of dead flesh until all that remained were ashes.

Sighing wistfully Lenore exerted a measure of control over herself and forced her teeth to shrink back into the gums, her eyes loosing their reflective black, before she turned to look towards the second vampire she had knocked back.

"Howdy," she said politely, almost perkily, "Unless you're an idiot, which I wouldn't put past you, you already know my question."

It nodded emphatically, so scared that it couldn't even hold onto its game face, reverting to a more human state.

"I don't know," it muttered, "I swear I don't know where he is," he was shaking in his metaphorical boots as she stalked towards him.

"Then how about what is he?" again he was just shaking his head, quivering. Somehow she didn't think she was going to get the answers she wanted, which was really too bad for the little baby vampire, she needed to hurt something, needed to kill. And he was drawing the short straw.

"Ya'll should probably get the hell away from him," a new, distinctly Texan voice called from the doorway as Lenore approached the fledgling vamp.

She turned her head just enough to quirk an eyebrow at the new arrival, "I'll be with you in a moment."

"Sorry doll, but anything you've got to say to him, has got to go through me first."

Lenore finally turned to face the Texan vampire, she was pretty in a school girl kind of way, and she couldn't have been more then five foot four with a slightly delicate frame and dark brown hair that fell in ringlets around her shoulders. She had the kind of pale complexion that took vampires years to achieve, a smooth girlish nose and she was dressed the way you would have expected a Texan Vampire to dress, big brown boot with small spurs, short raggedly cut off blue jeans and a red tank top that showed more then it hid, with a small light brown tasselled jacket hanging over it all. To cap it off she had on a big old-fashioned western hat.

She cut an attractive figure, and radiated decades of undead life. She was also backed by three other male vampires, dressed in the good old Western fashion as well. Now that she thought about it the vamp she had already ashed was sporting a western look…and so was the one on the floor. A themed vampire pack? It was certainly different, a little lame, but different.

"You see that little runt you were about to obliterate is one of mine, I chose him, I made him, he's mine," Lenore's interest in the new vampire dropped a little, she didn't care about the fledgling, all she cared about was that something belonging to her was about to be damaged.

It made her sick to think of it like that, her pack had been her allies, her friends, her family.

"Do you have a name?" Lenore asked, mirroring the standoffish posture of the Texans

"Isobella, but ya'll can just called me Mistress."

Lenore just quirked her eyebrow again as she folded her arms, silence could be such a useful tool.

"Ya see, in about 2 minutes you'll be on your knees begging for ya life, and I figure ya'll serve a much better deterrent to other disrespectful youngsters as a minion," Lenore couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter

"Really? How old could you possibly be to be calling me a youngster? In my experience it's the babies who have to try and act older then they are." Texan girl snarled at that, but kept her face carefully composed and Lenore suddenly realised they didn't know she was a vampire.

They hadn't seen her version of a game face, and she didn't have that sulphuric demonic scent to give her away, she had once heard it said that the enemies ignorance was your gift and should be wielded as if it were a sword, seemed like good advice to her.

"You know, since I'm going to be all aquiver soon, would you mind telling me about the Red Eyed Beast?"

"Sorry doll, never heard of him. So you gonna do this the easy way, or the fun way?"

Lenore's interest peaked once more, "I like the sounds of the fun way," and that was the end of the conversation, two of the flanking vampires surged forward.

It wasn't the most uncoordinated attack she had ever seen, but it was close, the two of them just lunged for her. Expecting brute force and speed to win out, guess she was going to have to disappoint them. Darting beneath the first brutes outstretched hands she took his wrist in hand and swivelled, unfortunately for him he was going one way and she was going the other way.

The tremendous force against his wrist shattered the arm in a thick wet meaty sound as he began to scream, plummeting towards the hard wood floor. It was relatively easy to give him a soft back kick to help him on his way into a broken chair leg. Before he could even begin to ash she slipt a fist through the second vampires pathetic defences, impacting against his jaw with a satisfactory cracking sound.

As he gasped and his head flicked backwards she latched onto his arm and jerked him forwards, using a snap kick to the back of his knee to drop his legs out from under him.

And as he staggered to his knees, looking towards his mistress in despair, Lenore released a now flailing arm and coolly placed a hand to either side of his face as she wrenched his head from his body, allowing a shower of ash to explode across the room. It hadn't taken her five seconds to dispose of the two thugs.

The third minion took a half step away from his Mistress and calmly and collectedly drew a bright, shiny revolver. Just as calmly and collectedly Lenore flipped a small wooden blade into the palm of her hand and using an under arm throw, flung it towards the minion who looked shocked at the fact his shot had gone wide, not to mention seeing the hilt of the weapon sticking out of his chest, however it had apparently missed the heart.

"Damn," she muttered loud enough to be heard, "I borrowed the knife from a friend, never really was much good at hitting what I aim for."

Isobella gave Lenore a faint smile at the same time she gave her thug a disgusted look, in a rapid motion that Lenore failed to see the Vampiric Mistress pulled the knife from her minions chest and drove it back in, this time piercing his heart and rendering him to ash as she allowed both the knife and the gun to fall to the ground.

"Sorry about that, these younglings just don't know anything about decorum. Honestly, a gun?" She shook her head in astonishment; "I thought I taught him better then that."

Then she sprang forward, Lenore had thought she was fast, but she couldn't even track the blur as two open palms shoved her back against the bar, and in the next instant she was pinned as a barrage of open palm and closed fist strikes rained down on her. And they hurt, god how they hurt, she could feel her bones breaking, vessels rupturing, muscles being torn, but she plain and simply wasn't fast enough to even try and block the blows.

When Isobella did finally step back Lenore collapsed to the ground, the only thought streaming through her mind was that it had in fact been less then two minutes since Isobella had said Lenore would be on the ground.

Crouching down over the beaten girl, Isobella stroked her hair, leaning down to whisper "The first lesson is always the hardest, gotta break you to the bit before I can start training you up, after all I am out four minions because of you," The demonic vampire was so damn cocky she still hadn't let her game face slide into view, maybe that was just vanity…Lenore could smell mint on the vampires breath rather then blood, breath mints and a preference for human appearance added up to vanity as far as she was concerned. Of course what did it matter, Lenore was loosing.

The Texan Vampire leaned closer to whisper into Lenore's ear, "Soon you will be one of us…"

Lenore turned her face into Mistress Vampires throat as she whispered back, "I already am," before the words could register Lenore's own needle point teeth descended and she sunk them deep into the bitches throat.

The cool vampiric blood ran sluggish and lumpy, tainted with sulphur, it was disgusting, but Lenore dug in with everything she had left and eventually Isobella's own attempts to pull free resulted in her own throat being torn out.

She was down and gurgling in her own blood as Lenore tried weakly to stand, she couldn't wait to see what she would feel like in the morning since she already felt like shit.

Cautiously scenting the air Lenore stumbled away from the alcohol soaked bar and headed towards the door, her feeble, bruised body aching with every movement. Glancing over the room she saw broken tables, broken chairs, and most importantly, copious amounts of broken bottles which had released a beautiful, gloriously flammable substance to soak into the very essence of the demon bar.

"Goodnight sweet Mistress," she called out in a singsong tone of voice as she retrieved a pocketbook of matches. "Don't get too close to the fire now."

And she lit them, a blindingly bright white flare filled her vision, quickly replaced by a smaller but more sombre yellow-orange flame, the two weakened Texan vampires just looked at her in horror as she dropped the matches, flames quickly spreading from them to engulf the room.

There was still a good portion of the night left, but her little adventure had left Lenore emotionally and physically drained, she was going to go back to Kennedy and resume the hunt the next evening.

**Sometime the Next Day**

The sting of sunlight woke Lenore from the depths of an almost catatonic healing sleep; she had never made it back to the hospital the night before. She had barely made it back to the motel room she and Kennedy had gotten there first night in Dallas.

She knew she had been hurt by the Texan vampire, but until she had stopped moving, taken a moment to really feel the wounds, she had had no idea how extensive they were.

With her strength rapidly fading she had ripped into some bagged blood that Kennedy had graciously picked up from the butcher and popped into the fridge, obviously before the coma…it was gritty, and cold, but nourishing, and as the new blood began to mix with her system a lethargic state begun to crawl over her.

Starting in her stomach it had quickly spread through her limbs, her legs falling out from under her before she could even begin to move towards the cheap motel bed.

Curling herself into a foetal position on the grungy floor she had stopped trying to fight it, her body needed to heal and fast, and the most efficient way was to shut itself down.

But now shafts of sunlight were beaming through the partially closed curtains, and if that was enough to stir her from such a deep sleep, then it was past time she was up and about. Of course like most things that was easier said then done, her body still ached, her muscles burned and as she glanced into a mirror she saw the unusual gauntness of her face, her stringy, greasy hair, the ugly green and yellow bruises.

_Shit_! She thought vehemently. She hadn't just been out for a few hours, she'd been out for a day at least, the sun had risen, set and risen again.

She was feeling better, but that was kind of irrelevant. Kennedy had been alone for two nights now, anything could have happened to her! Lenore knew she wasn't thinking rationally, it was a little absurd to think Kennedy couldn't survive without her, but still she was a defenceless slayer in a public hospital. Any body could get in, and it would take less then a heartbeat for some things to kill her.

She was beginning to hyperventilate as she rapidly paced, trying to think. She needed to shower, change into something a little less bloody…glancing around the room she contemplated cleaning up the bloodied carpet, or maybe the empty bloody packs…but then again that took time.

Lenore raced through an icy cold, prickly shower, scratching at the scabbed blood until her skin was raw, she applied a similar method to her hair, trying to grind out the worst of the grease before she flung herself back into the other room letting the warm air dry her as little as it could before she hurriedly dressed in black jeans, a black long sleeved turtle neck sweater and dark leather boots.

The pure black ensemble had a devastating affect in revealing her pale complexion, but that couldn't be helped since they did effectively hide most of the bruising. Never a good idea to walk into a hospital looking all beaten up, the doctors tended to get worried. However there wasn't much she could do about the dark ugly bruises tracing their way up her jaw and swelling part of her cheek.

Stuffing a cheap gym back with extra clothes Lenore slung the bag strap over her shoulder and took the keys to Kennedy's Porsche in one hand and a fresh bag of all American pigs blood in the other, it had a little straw sticking out of it and everything.

The vampire slipped on the shades Kennedy has provided on the road trip to Dallas, and with that final addition to her wardrobe she stalked out into the stifling hot air and the harsh light of day.

By the time Lenore reached the hospital and edged her way past concerned nurses and doctors it was late afternoon, but even then she couldn't catch a break.

The afternoon sunlight poured through the windows into the slayers room…or at least it should have…it had the first day Lenore was there.

But this time the blinds were drawn and a pale young woman in a candy stripper's outfit stood beside Kennedy. A candy stripper that reeked of sulphur.

"Hey," Lenore called out gently, "How's she doing?"

The candy stripper looked up startled, her hands dropping away from the bed

"Oh ah, she's doing fine," she claimed, as she glanced around at the monitors. Even Lenore could tell she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing or even looking at.

"That's great," Lenore replied as she stepped closer, unfortunately the young vampire was edgy, nervous and she reacted the way any nervous little vampire would. Violently.

She snarled, her face changing form as her nostrils flared, taking in the aroma of a different kind of vampire. She awkwardly lunged towards Lenore, but it was a simple matter for the older vampire to catch one of those hands, her other hand snaking around the candy strippers throat and spinning her into the wall.

A muffled grunt was emitted as the demonic vampire hung suspended by her throat and shoved against a wall as she gasped in imitation of being human. "Tut tut little one, you shouldn't snarl at your elders."

Leaning in until she could feel the warmth of the monsters breath she asked, "What's a little vamp like you doing up and about during daylight hours…wait, no don't rush to answer," it was kind of cruel to mock the vampire while she tightened her hold just in the off chance that the vampire could still speak.

"Let me guess, you heard about a comatose slayer, someone weak and defenceless, someone with blood so potent it could make your eyes boil, and you just couldn't help but try and take a slice of her home with you. Of course being the baby that you are you couldn't possibly have come for her at night, not when other more powerful beasties would be trying for her, you had to try something a little more risky, something a little more daring, such as a daylight strike."

Lenore smiled savagely as she slowly let the vampire's feet down to the ground; releasing her hold just enough for the girl to gasp as Lenore stroked her hair and whispered, "Its too bad, you're kind of cute in the candy stripper outfit."

The girl's eyes widened, but before she could gasp or scream, or even begin to fight back Lenore dropped the hand and gripped the girls shirt with both hands, lifting her entire body in a sweeping, powerful throw. Her face was so surprised, so startled as she punched through the curtains and crashed through the glass.

It was at least a three-story drop, but the moment she entered that awful stream of sunlight her body began to smoulder, flames licking across her cheeks as she was engulfed. A fast and hard method of execution, but relatively painless and it left so little trace.

Of course there was going to be the matter of the security, she could already hear, rushing down the hall. As she turned to face the music Lenore took a half step back.

Shocked to see a young woman had already entered the room, a woman with vibrant red hair and extraordinarily sad eyes. A woman dressed in unconventional, but upbeat, happy, looking clothes.

"Demon," She whispered, as an unearthly wind began to move the woman's hair and energy crackled along her closed fists,

"Wait," Lenore exclaimed, raising her arm in a peaceful, pacifying gesture, the witch didn't even pause. A stream of raw, painful energy surged through her, lifting her bodily and hurling her across the room, and wouldn't you know it? Right through the same smashed windows she had just thrown the other vampire through.

Life was such a bitch sometimes. But that was all the thought she had time for as the asphalt rushed to meet her in a painful encounter akin to dying. She was already hurt, and the fall didn't help matters in the slightest.

But that didn't matter, her pain was nothing. Awkwardly she pushed herself to her feet, remarkably she was still more or less in tact, nothing was broken that was going to slow her down too much, and she needed to get back to Kennedy and fast. Who knew what the hell the witch was going to do to her?

Turns out all the pain of standing up wasn't necessary, the Witch was floating a half foot above the ground with her pointy little shoes dangling as that same unearthly air stirred around the red haired woman. Seemed she was more interested in Lenore then Kennedy, only for an unprovoked and very violent attacker the Witch seemed confused.

Her eyes darting over Lenore's face in puzzlement, as if her mind was trying to reconcile what she saw with what she knew…it was as if she recognised the vampire, only she didn't at the same time.

"Tara?" She suddenly whispered, her voice hopeful as her eyes brimmed with tears and it suddenly hit Lenore that the Witch must be a member of the Council, like Xander, the guy Kennedy had met with before. If she recognised Lenore, like he had, thinking she looked like that other person, then she must be a member of the Council.

Her mind was slowly piecing together what she had been told and what she overheard…oh shit, she thought. The kind of hope, kindled with the kind of confusion that was sweeping across the Witches face could only mean that she was Kennedy's ex, the ex whose heart had been broken. It might have seemed like a leap in logic, but it made sense, she had come to see a wounded Kennedy and had defended her viciously against even a possible danger, and she was also looking at Lenore like she was her dead lover brought back to life.

"I'm not Tara," Lenore said simply, but with some measure of pain in her voice. Hadn't that Xander guy told the rest of them that Kennedy's new lover bore a resemblance to Willow's old one?

"My name is Lenore, and I guess Xander didn't tell you anything about me," At that moment a second young woman appeared beside Willow, a short African American woman moving with all the grace and deadly prowess that Lenore associated with Kennedy.

Another slayer.

The Witches eyes hardened, "Of course you're not Tara. Tara is dead. Your some kind of demon, looking like her, trying to make me lower my guard!" Her hands began to lift in a striking motion and the dark magical energies coalesced, darkening, intensifying.

"Wait," Lenore cried out, "I'm not a demon!"

The Witch just looked from Lenore to the three-story drop, "I can also sense energies demon, when I want to, and you, you're not human."

"Before you do anything rash, talk to Xander, I met him, he saw me with Kennedy, he knows I'm not a bad guy," she blurted out, trying to reason with an increasingly irrational witch.

"He didn't say anything to me," She replied as a jolt of energy leapt from her hand and towards Lenore.

The blast ripped through her and she flew into the side of a car with a tremendous thumping sound, the metal indenting around her as she sunk to her knees. God how she hated magic.

A faint trickle of blood built at the top of her mouth before the small well overflowed, coating her lips in the sweet taste of herself. And she could smell the ozone building in the air as a second wave of energy became charged.

"She begged you to leave with her," Lenore breathed out, her eyes frantically searching the Witches for a hint of something, of mercy, of understanding, and there was the slightest hesitation there. But the currents of energy were still crackling around her arms in ever growing volume.

"She had to break your heart," Lenore kept trying, "She thought it was the only way the Council would ever let her leave."

"Enough," Willow decreed, her voice echoing in an ominous way. As the energy built to blinding levels around the Witch Lenore could only stare up at her and watch, being oddly reminded of the idea that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Because despite it being the middle of the day, the sun burning bright around them, all she could see was the blinding glare of Willow's energy.

"Tell her that I love her," she whispered, pleading with Willow, "And that I'm sorry."

As the witch drew back her arm the coalescing energy crawled along her skin, as if it were being syphoned from the rest of her and into the palm of her hand.

In the moment when Lenore thought she would finally meet her end, finally be with her family again the governor called. A stay of execution in the sweet dulcet tones of Kennedy's rasping voice.

"Willow stop," And the Witch did, instantly, the growing energies were extinguished

Kennedy stood, wide-awake, and coma free, resting heavily to one side in her white hospital gown with the wind wreaking havoc on her. She was so pale, the bandages only loosely covering her throat, and even from her dazed position smacked into the side of a car Lenore could see the not so faint tremors running through the slayer.

She could hear the difficulty that Kennedy had in pushing words through her raspy vocal cords and swollen lips, damage done by Lenore's lack of control.

"You should be in bed Kennedy," Lenore said quietly as she rose to her feet. The witch seemed incapable of words, her eyes brimming with tears as she gazed longingly at Kennedy. Such raw emotion coursing across the woman's face.

"And you shouldn't be here Lenore," Kennedy replied, "Not yet at least," she continued, cutting the vampire off before she could even try to argue.

"I need to think, and," she interrupted herself as she bent over and succumbed to a bout of a hacking cough, "and," she repeated, "I can't do that with you here."

Those words cut Lenore more deeply then any blade could have, but she regretfully understood. She had committed an unspeakable atrocity upon the slayer, she had destroyed any chance for their blossoming relationship and she was lucky to still be alive. She richly deserved the fate the Witch had been about to hand to her.

Lowering her head in shame she watched Kennedy through lowered eyes, watched the shaking as it begin to affect the slayer more. She was too weak to be moving around, and she was certainly too weak to have to deal with Lenore. The sooner she left, the sooner the slayer could rest, begin to recuperate.

"I understand," Lenore murmured, eyes still lowered, "Y-you need space," she stuttered.

"I do," And those two simple words conveyed more pain then Lenore had thought possible. She tried to be strong, tried to meet Kennedy's gaze. But she felt the blood rising through her cheeks, tears brimming in her eyes and so she turned away.

"Goodbye Kennedy," she whispered, unable to bear looking back at the slayer as she walked away. Fully aware of the three sets of eyes watching her go.

**Hospital Room**

**Kennedy's POV**

The three girls had been silent on the trek back to Kennedy's somewhat damaged hospital room, though much to her shame she had needed Avanda's help to get back there. Avanda being the African American slayer Willow had brought with her.

However once Kennedy was settled onto the hospital bed Avanda had skipped out, eager to avoid the growing tension between the former lovers.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you Willow…but why are you?" Kennedy asked, her voice still rasping painfully.

Willow just looked shocked at the question, "You were hurt," she said simply, as if that were all the explanation she need.

"Maybe you're not my girlfriend anymore, but you're still my friend and I care about you" she continued earnestly, wringing her hands a little.

Kennedy was honestly a little shocked by Willow's answer, she had hurt the Witch so deeply the emotional scars were still visible and yet she had flown half way around the world just to be at Kennedy's side. It made the slayer feel sick at herself.

"Ok. And the reason for trying to kill my new girlfriend?" Goddess, she could be such a bitch, she felt even worse as she watched her words crash through Willow, the slight hope being washed from her eyes, her posture slumping slightly in defeat.

"I-I'm s-sorry" she stammered, "I-I didn't know, she was just here with y-you, and the room was wrecked and she wasn't human and I just reacted" the witch babbled. "Hey" Willow said suddenly, interrupting her own babbling, "Wait a minute here, she's not human, I could feel it, that she's not human I mean"

Kennedy quirked an eyebrow, "And?"

"And, but…"

"But I'm a slayer, you're a witch, Oz is a werewolf, Dawn is a mystical key, Anya was a demon and Angel and Spike are vampires…being human doesn't really mean anything any more"

"Witches are human" she replied, fixating on that one part of Kennedy's speech

"Oh please Willow," she said in an exasperated tone, "Witches are as human as a slayer is"

"A Slayer is human!" the witch protested

"Not really" the slayer replied, "And there's no shame in it Willow, being humans not all its cracked up to be. We're not completely human any more, but we still have our souls and our humanity, we feel and we hate and we love"

Willow didn't have anything to say to that. So she just stood there for a time, eventually taking a seat beside Kennedy on the bed.

"I'm still in love with you" Willow whispered, hanging her head in defeat

"Oh baby I know" Kennedy replied, trying to be reassuring as she put her hand over Willow's, "But you and me? We're a thing of the past"

"I know" Willow replied sadly

bA Bar Somewhere outside of Dallas/b

In the spirit of sadness Lenore was drowning her sorrows in a triple shot of scotch in some grungy bar outside of Dallas, the floor boards creaked and were so sticky it felt like she was wearing suction caps when she walked in.

A low set ceiling fan and light dangled ominously and the flickering, swinging lights cast deep shadows through the room.

She could smell excrement, vomit and urine and things that no human body should be without. She could practically taste the demons in the room, demons that were seeking the dregs of society, the desperate and hopeless to feed upon.

And right then, she just couldn't bring herself to care. The scotch was dulling her senses slowly, but in a delightful manner as her ability to think and feel was becoming hazy, her sense of balance rapidly deteriorating and her vision blurring.

Slapping the glass down she waited for a refill, the barman served the customers indiscriminately, no limits of what you could shoot down except for your cash at hand. Lenore could have been a thirteen-year-old kid or a ninety-year-old grandma with liver disease and the barman wouldn't have cared.

"This seat taken?" a sleazy, and very male voice said as he slid onto the stool beside her, she just ignored him. Content in her misery.

"How about I buy the next round," He suggested as he dragged the stool a little closer, she simply continued to ignore him.

Ripping back another throat burningly horrific scotch, hell she wasn't even sure it was scotch, but as long as it kept pushing her deeper into an abyss of blissful unawareness, she didn't care if it was yak piss. She just didn't want to feel anything.

She especially didn't want to feel the hand sliding up her thigh, or smell the rank beer stained breath as the man leaned into her, "If you don't wanna talk, I'm good at a lot of other things", his inflection and his hand conveying what he wanted, especially as his hand began to wander into more tender areas.

"Remove the hand," she slurred, not being able to muster the effort to threaten him if he didn't.

"Look, your obviously upset, but me and little Ricky can fix that for you" she was disgusted as he patted his crotch. Little Ricky. It was pathetic.

Almost as pathetic as the slight prick of a blade piercing the skin at her ribs, "I asked nicely babe, now get moving. Don't even bother calling for help, in a place like this nobody gives a shit".

Without so much as blinking an eye she shunted the blade to the side and ripped into his throat, his flesh parting like water beneath her teeth as his blood rushed to fill her mouth in a glorious high. The alcohol in his blood was so potent it was better then a dozen shots of whatever she had been drinking.

Wrenching her teeth from him his corpse collapsed from the stool and smacked into the ground with a thud that raised a thin layer of dust.

"Don't bother calling for help," she mimicked at his corpse, "in a place like this nobody gives a shit."

And it was true, no one did, no one had batted as much as an eyebrow when he tried to coerce her from the bar, and no one had so much batted an eyebrow when she ripped into this throat and dumped his corpse on the floor.

"If you don't want him, I'll happily take him off your handsss misstresss" A wormy, pale looking brat hissed around his forked tongue, delicately scenting the air she caught the taste of decay, of rot beneath the boys otherwise human façade. A ghoul most likely. A scavenger.

"All yours," she said gesturing expansively

How far she had fallen, and so quickly. In mere months she had broken her eighty-year human free diet multiple times, and now she had killed, without a second thought. The man had been a pig, gross, disgusting, but he hadn't deserved to die. She barely made it outside before she began to vomit his blood back up.

With the bile in the back of her mouth, and the fresh vomit smell lingering on her, she had to admit that perhaps she was not going to be able to go back. That maybe it was already too late to escape the bloodlust; she simply didn't have the strength to abstain, to resist, anymore.

As her body finished its attempts at dry heaving she collapsed back against an outside wall of the bar and tried to breathe the clean air, but all she could smell was blood, and she was numbed sufficiently from her earlier exploits that she couldn't even feel the dirt under her, or the wooden walls behind her.

Despair was setting into her soul and she was ready to give up, it had been mere hours since she walked away from Kennedy, but she believed it didn't matter whether it was hours or years. Kennedy would not be able to forgive her for what she had done, or at least that was what Lenore believed.

Perhaps death was the answer, free from life and pain and despair, and love, oh yes, free from the wickedness of love. It still astounded her at how easily she had fallen in love with the young slayer, it had just felt so right, like coming home.

"Really now, don't you just feel pathetic?"

Lenore's eyes shot up towards the malevolent voice, holy shit…it was the big bad red-eyed shimmery demon and he looked terrifyingly happy, like a child in a candy store.

With one monstrously sized claw he reached out and took her by the throat, lifting her from her half crouched, half collapsed position until she was dangling above the ground. The finest trickles of blood worming their way from her body where his claws dug in.

"Not even a tiny bit of a struggle?" He asked, his voice booming with disappointment. "Such a pity, come now speak up, I have little interest in you. It was the other one who wounded me so."

Suddenly he had her attention, and from the way his lips curled into a grotesque version of a smile he knew she was all ears as well.

"Tell me where she is little one and I will not only release you, but grant you safe passage from this city, if you leave tonight."

In the next moment it was as if an eternity had passed, to live or die, to betray Kennedy or not, to end her own suffering or not? What could she possibly do, on the one hand she already betrayed Kennedy, how was betraying her again really that bad?

Taking a deep breath as he relaxed his group she spoke as quietly and demurely as she could, "Sit on it and rotate asshole."

The beast snarled and smashed her repeatedly into the side of the wall, tossing her about like a rag doll until finally he hurled her a good fifty feet across the rocky ground, as she skidded to a stop she felt the grazes and the blood sluggishly flowing out of her.

In the blink of an eye he crossed the distance, moving like some poorly animated cartoon, though in reality he was just moving too quickly for her eyes to track most of the time. He slashed his claw viciously down the side of her face, ripping through the flesh of her cheek and nose, cutting the soft jelly like tissue of her left eye. She barely gave him the satisfaction of a grunt.

And then he sliced her shirt to ribbons, three precise slices, none of which cut her flesh, but still managed to eviscerate her clothes. "You should have told me where she was," he whispered, as his claws mauled her, groping and slicing through her chest at the same time.

God help her be strong in her last moments of life. Funny how in all her years of being a vampire, even when she religiously fed on humans, she had never stopped believing in the One True God. Never stopped praying to him in her time of need, of course she had never truly believed he would aid her, but still she hoped for strength in her final hours. Let her not betray Kennedy again; let her leave the world with a little dignity.

The beast took a malicious pleasure in looking into her eyes as he spoke, "Your God can't help you now," her eyes reflected the shock as she suddenly felt the pressure within her mind, the invasion of the creature as he read her most intimate thoughts.

She wanted to fight that psychic invasion but what he did next destroyed her ability to do so, in the true fashion of a devil his body changed. The monstrosity that was his penis split like the head of a hydra, three tentacle like penises emerged from the one, a slick oily residue sliding over them as they elongated and widened. A delicate slice of his claw removed the slight obstacle of her jeans and she cried out as the thing rammed its way inside of her.

But as she gasped in pain, the second of them snaked its way into her mouth, forcing its way down her throat so that she gagged over it. The third pushing its way through her anus, all three of them stretching and expanding to fill her. To press inside and stretch her until she broke into tears at the pain and violation.

The beasts three tentacles lifted her bodily from the ground without any aid, and she dangled, thrashing in mid air as they continued to worm around inside of her. The bestial creature crying out in pleasure and amusement as she tried to scream.

"Keep fighting, it only makes it better," he snarled in excitement, and then she was under the assault of his mind. Not just as he ripped his way into her thoughts, searching and discarding, but she could see what he was and what he had done as well.

The psychic invasion was a double-edged blade; she just didn't know how to use it to her advantage as random memories from the creature found her.

She saw that she was the 31st woman he had done this to in the last century, that he came out to feed and sow chaos every 20 or so years, spending the rest of its time in the bowels of hell. She saw that those who survived his horrific attentions were never the same again, forever altered, and the truly unfortunate ones became impregnated with his demonic spawn. Spawn that would in time eat its way through the mother.

And she saw something more terrifying then any of that, she saw what it planned to do to Kennedy when it found her. In its mind she was a powerful being, worthy of its attentions. And what it wanted to do to her made what it was doing to Lenore look like a cakewalk.

With great disgust she felt a rush of something pouring into her from the creature, and then it was done, casually discarding her he flipped her another dozen feet. And there she lay, violated, broken and despairing in the knowledge that it had ransacked her mind and now knew exactly where to find Kennedy.

As she tried to move Lenore cramped horribly, curling into the foetal position as she let out a primal, unearthly agonised scream. She could feel something moving with in her, thrashing and growing. Every part of her was hurt or broken, but compared to what was thrusting through her the rest of her body wasn't even a blip on the radar.

It was growing so fast it was wrenching through her, biting into her organs, trying to rip its way free. She screamed again as the little monster bit its way out, its grotesque little head sticking out of her abdomen as it began to eat up her stomach, crawling its way out and closer to Lenore's face.

The vampire thought she had truly had it, that she was done, finished, when a figure flashed across her view, small and bratty looking the young man swept the monster into its hand and with a pair of razor sharp and somewhat serrated teeth bit the creatures head clean off.

"One good turn dessservess another" the young ghoul hissed, its forked tongue flicking out into the air as it cradled the now deceased baby monster. Lenore just looked at him, the simple pleasure he had just derived astonished her as he beamed a smile down at her. She began to laugh, as darkness enclosed her vision she just continued to laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hospital**

As the monstrous beast creature stalked its way through the hospital and towards the now unconscious Kennedy it felt utterly pleased with itself. Sated. Powerful. Unseen and Invincible.

It never saw the red haired witch, never felt, smelt, heard or tasted her. One moment he was alone in a darkened hallway, the next she stood before him. Radiating such intense unbelievable power that his flesh peeled and burned, his organs liquefied and his carcass fell to ashes.

His demonic equivalent of a soul cast back into the reaches of hellfire and brimstone for another 2 decades until he could once again stalk the earth.

"Hey" Willow said softly as Kennedy began to shrug off the last vestiges of sleep, her eyes fluttering open.

"How are you feeling?" The slayer groggily glanced towards the windows of the room she had been transferred to.

Physically she felt fine, she was recovering quickly, in fact she could probably be discharged that day, and when she said probably she meant she was going to be. Regardless of what anyone else said. She was tired of lying around, tired of resting; it had only been a few days since she woke up from her coma. But she felt the need to get moving again, to feel the wind and earth, to kick some demonic ass.

But despite feeling so good physically…and she had a slight suspicion that Willow had worked some mojo to speed her healing…she felt crappy emotionally. Anguished, her soul screaming out in pain and despair. She missed Lenore, missed seeing her, missed touching her, missed the way the vampire would watch her when she thought Kennedy didn't notice.

She missed her terribly, but the incident that had put her in the hospital was just the tip of the iceberg, the shocking, sudden and very real reminder that Lenore i_was/i_ a vampire. She needed blood to live, and if they were together Kennedy was going to be confronted with that vampiric nature more and more. Maybe she would be bitten again, maybe Lenore would bite someone else.

Maybe their natures would drive them to each other's throats…but what really terrified her was that maybe the next time Lenore lost control Kennedy would be embracing an entirely new life style when she woke up.

All it would take is a few mouthfuls of the vampire's blood to infect her, to change her. And deep down inside she was truly terrified at the prospect of being a vampire, even one like Lenore, but more so she feared immortality, of how it could twist and destroy all that was beautiful and good inside of a person, and Kennedy knew she already had her own darkness to deal with.

For Willow's sake she mustered a slight smile, "I'm ok."

"Anything interesting happen while I was out?"

Willow hesitated for a moment, just a brief hesitation, but Kennedy had spent years learning everything there was to know about Willow, learning how to read her, and that hesitation spoke volumes.

"The-there, was a demon in the hallway earlier. But I took care of him," Meaning she used her magic to stop him, to kill him? Kennedy knew Willow didn't fear her magic anymore, but she was still loath to use it to harm another living being, even a demon.

And the fact that another demon had made an attempt at her in the hospital was worrying; it was past time she was on her feet again.

"What kind of demon was it?" She asked, now it was Willow's turn to give her a quizzical look.

"You don't normally care what kind they are, just that they're dead."

Kennedy frowned, "Maybe that's how I use to think Willow, but the last time you and I really spoke was more then a year and a half ago. I've learned since then."

The witch actually had the grace to blush a little as she looked away

"I don't know what it was," she muttered, "It was hidden in some kind of shimmery glamour, all I saw were sort of glowing red eyes."

Kennedy's heart practically stopped. Had Willow just described the monster she had already tried to kill? She had thought it dead once already until she was told about the continued mutilations.

"Are," she coughed a little, "Are you sure you killed it?"

"I burnt its body to ash and sent its soul screaming back to hell," Willow said flatly, "So yes. I'm sure I killed it."

That was both a relief and a disappointment to the slayer; it meant she wouldn't be able to finish the job herself. But on the bright side the creature wouldn't be mutilating anyone else.

"Wait, was he the one who put you in here?" The witch demanded to know, a fiery rage building in her eyes. Right, Kennedy thought, she doesn't know that Lenore did it…probably a good idea to keep that to herself if she didn't want the vampire to meet an uncomfortable end…Thinking about Lenore the slayer began to wonder where she was, what she was doing…if she was alright.

"Ah yep," Kennedy lied, "He's the one I was fighting before I ended up here." Well not a complete lie at least, she had been fighting it before she wound up in the hospital. She could tell Willow didn't completely buy it, unfortunately Willow knew Kennedy as well as Kennedy knew Willow. Hard to successfully lie to someone you'd been sleeping with for years at a time. But thankfully the Witch didn't press the issue.

"Well, so, lets see about getting me out of here?" She said hopefully.

"Yes," Willow agreed, "We should be getting back to England as soon as possible," she said absently

"Wait a minute, I never said I was going back to England," Kennedy replied quickly as she watched Willow's blank expression.

"But you're hurt, and you'll be safe in England," the witch said as if that was a perfectly good reason

"I'm a slayer Willow, I'm hurt all the time, and safe? I'm not meant to _be_ safe," she stated emphatically, emphasising the _be_, "I'm meant to be in danger so that other people, civilian people, can be safe."

"No." Willow said stubbornly, "You're coming back to England, with me. Right now."

"I'm not."

"You don't have a choice Kennedy. You're a slayer, and despite any history we have you answer to the Council, you answer directly to the Board of Directors in the Council. And that means you answer to me, and you will do what I say," She stated definitively, her eyes growing darker as she spoke.

"Willow, don't do this," Kennedy begged, "Please don't do this."

"It's already done."

"No Willow. I'm not, I will not go back. You can expel me from the Council if you want to, but I refuse to go back. I have a life here, I'm in my element and I do good."

The Witch raised her hand in a menacing motion and Kennedy hated herself for the fact she flinched, if she wanted to Willow had the power to take Kennedy by force. She could knock her out and stick her on a private flight back to England, or hell, she could wave a hand and teleport both of them.

And once she was back in England? The New Council had the necessary resources to contain a slayer indefinitely, after all with so many slayers in the world, eventually some of them were going to take a turn for the worst, go over to evil or just plain loose there mind…like Dana…She had actually been the inspiration, so far the Council had had only very limited success in helping Dana to recover after she was taken from Angel in L.A.

"There will be repercussions Kennedy…If I don't take you back now, if you refuse to come back of your own accord especially once the rest of the Council sees Xander report, and mine…there could be drastic repercussions."

"I know," she replied simply, "But I'm still not going back."

"Stubborn Ass," Willow muttered before storming out of the room, her low heels clicking sharply.

The slayer let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding when it hit her, what the hell had she just done? Why had she done it? Why hadn't she just gone back and gotten it over with?

"I can be such an idiot," she muttered to herself, or as Willow had put it, she could be such a stubborn ass.

There were going to be repercussions…the New Council wasn't as brutal as the Old Council, but it still had rules, laws. They were after all guardians of a generation of special young women waging a war against the forces of darkness, they couldn't afford to be weak, couldn't afford to not enforce their own laws.

Sighing she lay back for a moment before sliding out of the bed, she needed to get moving.

**Three Months Later**

Time had passed. Kennedy had hunted. She had killed, and now she was just plain tired. For three months she had been awaiting the response of the Collective Council, it wasn't unusual for them to take considerable time to come to decisions considering a majority had to be assembled in one place at one time. But it was still grating on her nerves to wait. Three months and not a word from anyone from the Council, including the few friends Kennedy still had in their ranks.

She had also not heard anything from Lenore. It had been months since they parted outside of the hospital, but she had sort of expected the vampire to stay close, so when Kennedy went looking for her and at best was able to find out she had left town she was disappointed. Upset. And just a little bit angry.

Grinding to a stop just outside of an isolated bar in a small town, Kennedy killed the engine and slid out of the dull black truck she had been driving. Her Porsche had been back at the motel in Dallas, but the slayer hadn't wanted to take it, she still smiled when she thought about the second hand car dealer and the way he had lit up when he realised she wanted to trade her brand new shiny Porsche for a slightly banged up two seater truck.

It was probably only worth ten or fifteen grand if you were being generous, it was certainly less conspicuous then a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar Porsche.

Sighing, she walked across the night darkened dirt parking lot in her boots, jeans, and black bra which was covered only by a thin layer of black fishnet and a loose fitting leather duster. All black. The colour seemed to fit with her mood of late.

A rugged looking older man held the door open as he walked out and Kennedy murmured a thanks, the encompassing, almost physical warmth of the Road House was stark in contrast when compared to the cold, wet night she had just escaped from. The small wooden room was more then three quarters full with men and women rugged in appearance and all with an unmistakable gleam of danger surrounding them.

Some of them were playing darts, or pool, other sat huddled around tables sharing a meal and conversation while others still sat at the bar itself, downing shot after shot.

Everyone in that room had one thing in common. They were Hunters.

Kennedy had heard rumours about the Road House, a place where Hunters often met with one another as they passed through. Trading stories of hunts, what they had learned in their travels. She hadn't been able to resist finding the place.

Strolling up to the bar her boots echoed loudly, even in the busy room, but no one cared.

"What can I get for you?" A pretty older woman with dull brown hair and a knowing smile asked.

"Just a beer thanks."

"Coming right up," As she filled the mug her hands glanced over Kennedy and she had the oddest suspicion that she was being measured, "Your first time in here?" she asked, but it was less of a question and more of a statement.

"Yeah."

"Well then, I'm Ellen and if there's anything I can get you just give me a yell," There was something eerie in that smile of hers.

Before she could even raise the glass to her lips a guy easily ten years her senior dropped on the stool beside her, "So what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?" he asked, his voice dripping with interest…and beer…as his eyes raked their way over her body. Smiling appreciatively at what he saw.

"That's not where I keep my eyes," She stated when he lingered on her breasts, even when he met her gaze he didn't have the grace to look ashamed. He just wore a cheeky looking smile. But what did she expect?

Hunters by definition were thrill seekers, they enjoyed their work because they worked hard and played harder, taking the opportunity to jump the bones of anyone and everyone they could. Of course every day was life and death for them, never knowing when they might meet their match, playing the chauvinistic asshole and sleeping with anything that moved was a sort of life affirming experience for them. Something that most people desperately craved when they dealt in death.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked again, "this ain't really the place for girls."

"You hit on me, then you insult me? You need to make up your mind, or just get smashed, because lacking in charm, you are," one of the guys a few stools down had to stifle a laugh and this time the guy did blush a little. But then he was also drunk, so maybe it was just the alcohol.

He stumbled away a few moments later. Only to be replaced by a younger and much more attractive guy. Maybe five ten with short brown hair, a strong jaw line and a childlike playfulness flitting through his eyes and over his grin.

"How's it going?" he asked, and she had to admit he kind of had a nice voice. If she weren't a lesbian she would have definitely been in trouble.

"Jesus, do I have to put up a sign that says Muff Diver?" she exhaled in exasperation, a taller guy standing behind the new guy bent over laughing at that,

"Come on Dean, let's get out of here," he managed to wheeze out

"Sammy," he whined

"She's not interested Dean, besides we have business to take care of." the guy, affectionately called Sammy, replied.

"What are you hunting?" Kennedy asked with mild interest and both the boys looked at her sharply, "Oh come on, this place is like the destination for hunters, if you're passing through of course your hunting something."

Dean looked at her appraisingly for a minute before he stood up, he even opened his mouth to say something but he was beat to it by the lovely bartender, Ellen.

"They are hunting a vampire," she said simply and a chill slide down Kennedy's spine, "Pretty much everyone in here is hunting a vampire at the moment"

She had to clear her throat to speak, "Wh-why is that?"

"A damn fine hunter was killed a few months back," one of the guys on a stool pitched in, "And since every hunter here knows who did it, we're all out to track the bitch down."

That chill was turning into a glacier; "We would have taken her out by now as well if the Winchesters," nodding his head towards Sam and Dean "Weren't holding back on us."

"We're no-" Sam began but was interrupted by another hunter

"Bullshit." A tall black woman said, "You two know the vampires name and what she looks like, hell the way we heard it," and she gestured expansively to include everyone in a suddenly very quiet room "The way we heard it is that you two actually turned on Gordon and saved the bitches life, if it weren't for you two he'd still be alive and she'd just be another dead vampire." The female hunters voice was heavy with emotion, a little bit of pain, a little bit of sadness, and a shit load of anger.

In fact most of the room was channelling some pretty pissed off feelings towards the two Winchesters.

A few of them were even starting to edge towards Sam and Dean, rubbing their hands along what Kennedy could only assume were concealed weapons.

"Hey," Ellen's voice rang out, confident, strong and demanding "If any of you want to start something, take it outside. I will not have you trashing my bar." Despite the commanding tone, nobody seemed to be listening.

"This vampire," Kennedy asked softly, looking at the Winchesters, but keeping the rest of her senses trained on the room, "She didn't happen to be Vegetarian did she?" emphasis on the _vegetarian_

From the way Sam's eyes shot towards her and widened she knew the vampire had been. They were talking about Lenore. Fuck! An entire room of hunters were gunning for her, Kennedy herself wasn't too happy with Lenore, but she did not want her dead.

"I think its time we settle this," the black female Hunter said, and a couple of the other hunters stood, moving into a half circle between the Winchesters and the door. They apparently agreed with the black woman.

Though her respect for the Winchesters went up as she watched them move like a well oiled machine, putting space between themselves and the bar, giving themselves room to work as they pressed against one another's backs. Keeping everyone in their line of sight.

"You are not doing this in my bar," Ellen said, "You're not doing this period."

No one was listening.

"Tell us what you know," One of the male hunters demanded, "and just maybe you won't be going to see your daddy tonight." The two Winchesters weren't responding passively anymore, if Sam hadn't been a fraction faster then Dean a fight would have started then. Even so Sam Winchester was struggling to hold his brother back.

A few of the other hunters were also looking a little uneasy after that particular comment.

"Their father is dead," Ellen said quietly for Kennedy's benefit.

"How a legend like him could have raised two boys like you, I'll never know," the guy continued in a rough voice.

"You're right," Sam said softly, before he let his brother go, "You'll never know."

Surprisingly Dean didn't put the guy down, didn't even move to hit him. But that may have had something to do with the various weapons that had begun to appear in various hands.

"Hey," Kennedy said into the growing tension as she slid off the stool, "As a completely impartial third party here, can I say something?" Yep. Completely Impartial. That was her. No body responded, but then nobody said she couldn't put in her two cents worth either.

The gathered hunters were also completely ignoring her, both side were just waiting for the other to make a move, maybe even just a flinch before they struck. Oh well, it was their problem if they thought a five foot something dark haired girl in a fishnet top wasn't a threat. They of all people should have known better then to judge based on appearances.

Or maybe they just didn't care, that could be it.

She stood between the black hunter and the two Winchester, both sides just looking over her head, which was a little insulting.

"If you let the Winchesters leave now I promise I won't hurt anyone," She said in a happy, chipper tone, one of the hunters still in a seat snorted with laughter.

"Ok, now you are all just being rude," She was looking at Dean as she said it and for the briefest moment his eyes flickered towards her, and one of the hunters behind took the opportunity to strike. A bowie knife almost miraculously appearing in his hand as he tried to lunge past Kennedy.

Dean's eyes widened and he began to move, but Kennedy heard the rustle of clothing, the shifting in positioning as the hunter moved. She stepped into his line of attack, and as the blade extended past her she dropped an arm into him. His elbow joint breaking in a sick meaty sound as he screamed. But she wasn't done.

Locking onto his wrist she twisted her body to plant an elbow into the hunters face, his nose breaking in a sharp crack as she continued to turn. Maliciously she raised a knee into his groin and watched the muffled agonised expression cross his face. She finished with a second elbow strike into his face, this time sending him sprawling across the floor.

Leaping into the air Kennedy performed a perfect spinning back kick that took the second moving hunter squarely in the chest and sent him careening into the bar.

Shocked expressions met her for a fraction of a second as a third hunter came at her, only this one drew a gun. A standard 9mm Glock from the small of his back. Now that pissed her off.

She could have taken him, but at that moment a very loud reverberating shotgun blast went off, all eyes turned to see Ellen, holding the smoking weapon with it pointed in the general direction of all the hunters.

She was also pissed off. Kennedy guessed she had a right to be since an all out brawl between hunters had been seconds away from tearing up her bar. "Sam, Dean, New Girl. Out." She declared, succinctly and with no arguments.

"Yes Ma'am," Dean shot back as he and Sam quickly moved towards the door and the gap that the hunters made in their ranks. Kennedy followed.

"Hey!" She called out after them, "Hey!" she yelled again, with the wind and the rain battering at her.

Dean swivelled to face her, "Look those were some sweet moves back there, but me and my brother would prefer to not stick around when those other hunters get out here." His brother had already slid into a Chevy Impala.

"I don't exactly want to stick around either, but I want to talk to you. Both of you," he ignored her and began to move off, until she gripped his arm with some of her bruising physical strength and yanked him off balance.

"We don't have time for you to play the insensitive asshole," she yelled over the howling wind, "I'm coming with you," she yanked him back again as she headed towards his car and slid into the passengers seat. Sam Winchester just smiled a little maniacally as his brother was forced to climb into the back seat of his own car.

"Don't you have your own car?" Dean grumbled

"Sure I do, but it's much harder for you to give me the slip if we're in the same car," she smiled sweetly back at him as his brother gunned the engine and they shot out of the lot in a shower of rain and mud. The constant assault of rain on the vehicle making it harder to speak normally and still be heard.

"Now, tell me everything you know about Lenore" she demanded.

**An Hour Later**

Turns out they didn't know all that much about Lenore. Just that when they met her, her pack was being hunted by an insane guy called Gordon Walker.

Realising she wasn't one of the bad guys, that she didn't kill people, they had let her go. In fact they had helped her to escape.

A few months after that they heard that Walker was dead, but not before he had spread the story about the Winchesters. Sam and Dean had checked out the place were Walkers body was found, but hadn't found any clues to help track down Lenore. Though they had found out that the rest of Lenore's pack was dead and their decapitated bodies were spread over a couple of towns. Apparently they'd been trying to outrun Walker.

That part pissed Kennedy off, why hadn't Lenore told her about her pack, her family? Or about Gordon Walker.

"You know we're about eighty miles from the Road House and your truck now" Sam said

"Screw my truck, nothing valuable in it anyway"

"OK, so where do you want us to drop you?" Dean pitched in and Kennedy just looked at him coldly,

"You're looking for Lenore. So am I. I'm going with you" she stated

"Oh hell no" Dean retorted, "Not happening"

"I saved your ass back at the Road House"

"Ellen saved our asses, not that we couldn't have handled it" Dean defended himself. Stupid male macho pride.

"Dean," Sam cut in, "What would it really hurt to let her tag along? She's Lenore's friend and she's going to be looking for her anyway. We've already seen she can take care of herself," he explained

"Wait a minute," Sam murmured to himself thoughtfully before Dean could respond, "You never actually said she was your friend, why do you want to find her?" his tone becoming more suspicious

"Because she i_is/i_ my friend," Kennedy stated obviously and watched as Sam smiled back at her.

"Good enough for me," he said,

"Oh come on Sammy, we don't know anything about her," Dean protested

"So ask me," Kennedy suggested, "Whatever you want to know."

The older Winchester's eyes perked up at that, his childlike smile coming back into play "Are you really gay?"

She just frowned at him, "How does it help to know that?"

He just looked at her. "Yes," she replied finally

"Is Lenore j_ust_ a friend?" he asked

The slayer looked away from him, and towards Sam, "Your brothers a pervert."

"Tell me something I don't know," he muttered, which resulted in him receiving a slap to the back of the head.

"Those were some pretty impressive moves back at the Road House," Sam complimented, changing the subject, "Almost like you knew what was going to happen before it actually happened," she sensed there was something more to the question, especially when his brother straightened up a little to hear her answer.

"I've been training since I was twelve," she replied, vaguely wondering if they would know what a slayer was if she told them.

"How old are you?' Sam asked

"23,"

"Both of your parents still alive," Dean pitched in

"Yes."

"So your mother didn't die in a nursery fire then," Dean quizzed

"No," she replied, just a little confused

"Ever met or dreamt of a guy with yellow eyes?"

Yellow eyes? "No. Is there a point to these questions?" She shot back, and she knew there was after the two brothers exchanged a meaningful glance but said nothing

"You can tag along until we find Lenore," Dean said finally, before for all apparent purposes he went to sleep.

"Ah this might be a stupid question," Kennedy suggested towards the still conscious and driving Sam, but how exactly do you plan to find her?"

Sam laughed a little at that, "Not a stupid question," he replied, "Last time we found her was by mistake when we were tracking down some headless bodies and cattle mutilations, we figure she needs to eat so eventually someone's going to notice missing or mutilated cows."

_Shit_. She thought

"Um, do you have a plan B for finding her?" she asked a little hesitantly,

"Not yet, but the cattle mutilations are a pretty sure bet," he said confidently

"And what if someone happened to, oh for example mention to Lenore that it was safer, easier and less traceable to just buy some blood from a butcher?" she asked sheepishly

For a second she thought he was going to smash the breaks on and bring the car to a screeching, rubber burning halt, but the moment passed and a slightly distressed expression flitted across his face. "Guess its time for plan B then…any suggestions?"

There had been one idea she was considering, but she was hesitant about it for a number of reasons. She couldn't contact the Council for help, but maybe she could drop by L.A, Angel and co could probably track down Lenore quickly enough and it wasn't likely they would tell the Council. The two groups weren't exactly on speaking terms, even after Angel's crew had taken down the Circle of the Thorn, or whatever they were called, the new Council still didn't trust them.

After the mega battle only Angel, Spike and the Demon King known as Illyria were left remaining, and just barely. A massive force of slayers had poured into the city to try and stem the flow of monsters, the city police, the gangs and even a couple of covert military units. All in all a vicious, bloody battle from which a great many good people had been lost.

Of course after it was over most of the city just repressed what had happened, ignoring or forgetting about it as completely as they could. Kennedy had been there when it all went down, and she had hung around afterwards to watch as Angel tried to salvage something from the wreck of Wolfram and Hart. He succeeded to a degree, utilising funds and research and artefacts the law firm had collected in order to build a new version of Angel Investigations. It was far bigger and better funded then any other PI agency, but it wasn't even in the same league as the Council.

"Feel up for a trip to L.A?"

**L.A**

"What the hell?" Dean murmured from the back seat as he came awake, "Is it just me or are we in L.A?"

"We're in L.A," Kennedy replied in a chipper tone of voice

"Ok, and why are we in L.A?" he asked

"Because" Sam chimed in as he slipped back into the front seat with three hot cups of coffee, "Plan A for tracking down Lenore is out."

"What?"

"Ah, Someone seems to have mentioned a better, less traceable way for a vampire to feed herself," Sam elaborated slightly.

Dean just looked towards Kennedy who blushed and took a sip of coffee, the glorious hot liquid filling her mouth and the caffeine burning its way into her system.

"So why are we in L.A?" he asked again

"I have some friends here who might be able to help us, but the catch is you two have to stay out here," Kennedy explained

"No way," Dean instantly protested, "We're letting you come along with us, which means we get to know everything and then i_we/i_ decide what i_you/i_ get to know."

Kennedy just quirked an eyebrow, "Ok. So where's Lenore?" she asked sarcastically. At his silence she continued, "You meet me back here in a couple of hours," before getting out of the car.

As she walked away from the Chevy Impala and up the steps to a gleaming shiny new building which was a hybrid between a set of offices and apartments, she heard Dean tell his brother "I don't trust her."

Supernaturally enhanced hearing was so very useful.

Walking through a set of double automatic doors Kennedy noticed the light was less intense on the other side, UV filtering windows? Expensive, but she was willing to bet Angel had the entire building done in them. If you were going to be a vampire cooped up inside during day light hours, why not have an entire building to move around in?

Walking across a pleasantly coloured foyer she smiled brightly and stepped in front of a guy waiting to talk to the receptionist. "Hi," she said nicely, only to receive a condescending glare back as the woman looked her up and down.

"No pro's welcome in this building," she said in a nasal tone, and resumed her previous activity, which appeared to be buffing her nails.

If Kennedy wasn't wearing such a sleazy outfit, especially the fishnet top from the night before, she would have been a little more upset over the receptionists comment. Upset enough to pull those pretty little nails out one by one.

"Look, I'm here to see Angel," She said, trying to remain pleasant

"The boss isn't seeing anyone right now."

"Ok," She squeezed out through gritted teeth, "How about Spike. He works here right?"

"Yes, Mr Spike co owns this building and organisation and is currently on the premises," she replied in her nasal tone. Mr Spike? She wondered if he had ever been called that to his face before

"I know Spike personally," Kennedy said "Ring up to his office, or whatever it is you do and tell him Kennedy wants to see him," Sure it had been a few years, but they had both been in Sunnydale for a while together, they had both fought inside the hellmouth itself. Surely that had to be enough to get in to see him.

The Receptionist just looked at Kennedy as if she had been born yesterday, with a distasteful quirk to her mouth. "I believe I already told you that we don't allow pro's in this building." Ok, if she called Kennedy a prostitute once more she was going to start getting upset.

"Now please leave or I'll be forced to call security."

Fuck it. Kennedy glanced up at the directory plate behind the woman; Spikes office was on the 12th floor. And she started walking towards the elevator.

It took about eight seconds for two burly looking men to appear, both in blue uniform suits. "Ma'am," the first one said, "Please turn around and leave the building or we will be forced to remove you."

"You and what army?" She replied acidly. As the first guy reached for her it took about a half second for her to dump him on his ass, and not even that long for the second guy to join him.

"Jesus Christ," she exclaimed, though only the receptionist was left to hear her, the other guy had taken off, "All I want to do is talk to Angel or Spike. Is that really such a big fucking request?"

"Apparently," a new voice chimed in "It is," Kennedy swivelled to see a woman a few years older then herself with auburn hair tied back in a knot and dressed in a sleek black business suit, carrying a briefcase. She must have just walked through the doors.

As the slayer focused on the new arrival, she became aware of the two guards getting back up and several more joining them.

"I'm Bethany," the new woman stated, offering her hand. Which Kennedy graciously took, she was pleasantly surprised to feel calluses, Bethany worked out. With more then just weights, those kinds of calluses came from swordplay.

"Kennedy," she replied, letting the woman's hand go.

Looking over Kennedy's shoulder Bethany spoke to the guards, "Its ok, I'll take it from here, oh and Clarisa," looking towards the Receptionist, "You're fired."

Bethany's hand slipt up to Kennedy's waist to gently guide her towards the elevators, "Its so hard to get good help these days," she complained, which brought a quick laugh from the slayer.

Once they were in the elevator and heading up to the 12th floor Bethany spoke again, "How do you know Spike?"

"Hmmm," Kennedy murmured, she had been lost in thought, "Oh I ah, spent some time in Sunnydale with him," Not sure whether the woman was aware of the supernatural, sure she was working for 2 vampires, or was she working with them? Didn't really matter. But some people just remained utterly clueless.

"Kennedy," she exclaimed as if she had just come to a realization, "Red's little plaything," then she blushed furiously, "Sorry, forgive me for the outburst. But I remember Spike mentioning you once"

"As Red's little plaything?" Kennedy asked in a slightly amused tone. Red being Willow.

"Yes." She said definitively, "So, you knew Spike in Sunnydale. You were there when the hell mouth collapsed?"

Ok, so apparently Bethany did know about the supernatural.

"Yeah, hell mouth collapsed, good times all round."

"And that would also make you one of the many new slayers," Bethany asked

"Yep, that it would," she replied. It seemed to be a very long elevator ride, each floor dinging by, until Kennedy realised they were at the 12th floor, the doors just weren't opening.

"Is there a reason the doors aren't opening?" Kennedy asked, taking a slightly defensive posture.

"Oh yes sorry about that, I'm so use to it," Bethany babbled, "Extensive magical and biological scans were initiated the moment we stepped into the elevator. Since its your first time in these offices it will take a few more minutes for the scans to calibrate to you, we can't be too careful these days." And Kennedy heard a world of sorrow in that simple sentence. Apparently it hadn't been all kittens and cookies for the new incarnation of Angel Investigations.

"So uh, how did you come to work for Angel?" Kennedy asked, she might as well do something to pass the time.

Bethany smiled slightly, as if she were recalling a fond memory. "A few years ago when Angel was still working out of a hotel I sort of impaled him with a metal rod."

Now that sounded like an interesting way to start a story, Kennedy waited for her to continue, "Since I was a little girl I had unstable telekinetic powers, I could move things with my mind," she elaborated, "But I couldn't control it, and I didn't want it. Angel helped me to accept my gift and learn to use it. He also kept me from becoming a pawn of Wolfram and Hart. In a strange twist of fate I found the incident kindled a passion for the law, so I went back to school and became a lawyer. When I heard what Angel was trying to do here, bringing something good out of the ashes of something terrible I wanted to help him, and so I've worked here ever since."

A telekinetic lawyer working for a guy called Angel who was a vampiric private investigator. Life was strange sometimes.

The doors finally dinged and slid open to reveal a broad hallway/foyer with some seats and another receptionist at her desk. Behind the desk was a glass wall, which revealed a fairly extensive and macabrely decorated office space.

As the two of them walked across the plush carpet the young, blonde female receptionist let out a hundred watt smile. She practically radiated sweetness and caring, she also felt a little off…like she wasn't entirely human.

"Kennedy, this is Louanna or Loulou as her friends call her, Loulou this is Kennedy. Loulou is a braken demon" Bethany confided, "and Loulou, Kennedy is a slayer". The receptionist practically leaped up at that, offering her hand, and shaking Kennedy's vigorously.

"I always wanted to meet a slayer!" She said excitedly, she looked like she was going to say more, but the distinctly English voice of a hundred plus years, bleached blonde vampire, called out "Bloody hell, get in here already."

"Hey Spike, nice to see you too," Kennedy said as she walked into his office. The vampire was quite casually sitting in a large revolving leather chair. And while he waited for her to say something else, she took the opportunity to have a look around his office. Black drapes, black carpeting, a dark mahogany desk, and a collection of weird and bizarre weaponry and artefacts scattered around the room.

"Did you really have to interrupt so soon?" Spike asked, the question directed at Bethany. Looking towards where he was pointing the slayer noticed a TV, which currently featured video surveillance from the ground floor foyer.

"I was all ready to bet on her beating those ponces into the ground."

"Sorry Spike, next time I'll try not to spoil your entertainment, or to spare the Security a bloody beating which would force us to pay out hazardous work compensation," Bethany replied sweetly.

"He gets a little bored during daylight hours," Bethany said to Kennedy, "He's not quite so bad at night."

"Heh," was Spike's response as he lit up a smoke, "So what do you want?" he asked, addressing the slayer this time.

"I uh, need some help," Kennedy stated

"Nothing we can do about your Council issues," he said bluntly,

"How did you know…wait it doesn't matter," she said a little bitterly as she explained, "That's not why I'm here. I need to find someone-"

"A new girlfriend?" Spike interrupted, "Should've stuck with the old one, though Red was a little high maintenance. Ow," the vampire squawked as a loud slapping sound resounded through the room "What the hell was that for?" he demanded, standing up as he tried to glare menacingly at the telekinetic lawyer.

"I'm sorry" Bethany replied innocently, clutching her briefcase in front of her, "I don't know what you're talking about"

He just growled back.

"Look Spike, please her name is Lenore and I need to find her as fast as possible, I figured you guys might be able to have a shaman work some kind of tracking spell, or maybe trace her through what she's been buying, or something," she pleaded

"We can," Bethany said,

"But you'll owe us," Spike slipped in, "It's actually company policy to take favours instead of cash payment, especially from individuals who have highly specialised skills. It was the big poofs idea," he said in way of explanation.

"Fine, no problem," Kennedy replied

"You do understand you will have to sign a magically binding contract," Bethany elaborated, "And if you fail to meet your obligations under said contract you will immediately be forced to pay a pre-agreed penalty, in a case such as yours, you would forfeit your slayer powers to us."

Ok, now that was kind of a big thing. "Sorry," Bethany apologised, "But since we don't maim or kill clients like Wolfram and Hart did, and since we especially don't take souls in forfeit of payment its necessary for us to have something of value to the individual, in order to enforce any agreement."

Ouch. Whatever happened to a no strings attached favour?

"Fine," Kennedy said slowly, "So to summarize if I fail to repay the favour I owe Angel Investigations for services rendered, I forfeit all of my slayer powers."

"Basically, Yes." Bethany replied, "We can have an agreement drawn up immediately and once you sign it we will locate this woman for you."

It felt almost as bad as selling her soul when she signed that contract in her own blood. An actual physical tremor ran through her as she felt herself becoming tied to the contract, its terms becoming enforceable on her. On the bright side they gave her an exact location where she could find Lenore, and as a courtesy they had their shaman or witch or whatever maintain the spell so they could update Kennedy if Lenore moved before she got there.

**London. **

**Meeting of the Watchers Council**

At seven points across an ancient nine-sided oak table, sat the highest-ranking members of the newly reformed Watchers Council. The room was dark; with shadows flickering across the cold stonewalls from the torches and the large burning fireplaces that sat in three places through the room.

The room was deep beneath the bowels of the every day council, there was no electricity, no running water and the enclosed area was sweltering hot, with the smoke that didn't drain into several well concealed vents, stinging the occupants eyes.

It was a room that had existed almost as long as the Council had been around, it was a place where the hardest of decisions were suppose to be made. Decisions that would determine the fate of the slayer herself. Once upon a time it had been created in order to create discomfit for the occupants under the belief that no decision which meant someone's death, incarceration or pain should not also gravely affect those who deemed themselves worthy of making such a decision.

Under some of the oldest Council laws, no person who entered that room could leave until a decision had been made and twenty fours had passed. At times those who entered the room remained within it for as long as a month after a decision had been made. Time for consideration. Time to reflect on all the possible ramifications.

During medieval times the Council had declared a time of war and under the Laws of War, had stopped using the room for its intended purpose. They were able to operate unilaterally when they wished, and when that war had been resolved they simply held onto the political powers they had gained. Never again returning to the Room, never again having to suffer as they made the slayer suffer.

In the reformation of the Council Giles had found the old codes of conduct, the laws the Council had once operated under, and the New Council had attempted to adopt them in order to create a better Council. Of course not all of the old ways were practical in a new modern era, especially an era with hundreds if not thousands of slayers…But with a decision concerning someone who had once been a part of the inner council, had been their friend and ally in a horrific war against the First and had aided in forming a new Council, they were not going to do anything rash, nor were they going to take any action lightly.

At one point of the table sat Willow, clad in a dark green robe, which denoted her status as a witch, her face was grimly set and in the flickering firelight her long rich hair seemed to have taken on a darker maroon tone. As if the Room was drawing the very light and happiness from her.

Beside her sat Faith, dressed in a black robe with lines of crimson drawn through it. The traditional colours of the slayer. She too radiated displeasure in being where she was, her complexion becoming paler when contrasted against the darkness of her robes.

To Faith's left was an empty seat, and then Xander, dressed in a dark beige which showed the smudges that dirt and muck had left on him as he had descended into the Room. Beige for human.

Directly across the table from Xander sat another figure in a beige robe, the illustrious and knowledgeable Giles, to his left sat Buffy and to her left sat a figure cloaked in a rich purple robe. His face completely concealed by the draping hood, he was a neutral party, one of three neutral parties who occupied a seat on the council.

It had actually been Buffy's idea for three other representatives to have a vote on the Council. Another means of preventing any future incarnation of the Council from becoming corrupted, or obsessed with their own power. The man in purple was a highly influential demon who ran a multinational company and had ties to multiple pacifistic, neutral or outright good demonic communities. It wasn't until the Scooby Gang had assumed control of the new Watchers Council that they had learned of his existence, and the fact the previous watchers council had used and abused the trust he put in them, he was a good person at heart and desired to give back to the world he lived in. He had been ecstatic when he was offered a place on the Council itself.

Though despite his pleasure at the invitation he still took considerable means to protect his identity from the rest of the Council, as well as the companies he owned or was connected with, as well as the locations of the demonic groups he represented. Or at least the ones the Council couldn't find easily enough on their own at any rate.

The hooded robe concealed his face, and whatever kind of demon he was he had an ability to teleport. Though it did take a toll on his body to do so.

The second neutral party sat to the right of Giles, and she made no efforts to hide her identity, her robes which should have been in beige had been patterned as if they were military fatigues. Her name was Kyla Ericson and she was part English, part Native American. Her darker skin was flushed with health and her lips often curled into a provocative smile, which forced her hazel brown eyes to light up. At that point in time her raven black hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. Kyla was a covert military liaison representing a coalition of several dozen countries who denied the existence of the supernatural, yet maintained several small covert operations teams to deal with them regardless.

Since the reformation of the Council those teams were essentially at the direction of the Council, whenever and wherever they were needed. Since the Council didn't often utilise those teams they also ran their own operations, after clearing them to ensure they wouldn't be messing up any of slayers own operations. Hence the Liaison…however it had taken some considerable time and numerous representatives from each of those unofficial teams before a suitable representative to wield a vote was found. After all they had to have sufficient experience and clout to make unilateral, or snap decisions without checking with their command, while at the same time they had to be someone that the Watchers Council could tolerate.

Allowing Kyla to vote on all matters as a part of the Directing Board ensured a fuller cooperation between the 'civilians' and the military, as well as providing a different perspective on their options.

Of the two remaining, but empty seats, one would be filled from within the Council when a suitable individual was selected. And the other would belong to the third and final neutral party, also when a suitable individual was selected. There were certainly no shortages of humans, demons, witches and things there weren't even names for who wanted to fill that seat. The power and influence they would gain would be enormous.

"I officially call the first meeting of the Room, under the Old Laws, open," The oldest slayer announced, and as she did so an actual stone tablet in the centre of the table begun to glow, with each word she spoke being transcribed. For the purposes of their own records, the Council would copy them into the computer system later. But for the time being, the stone tablet was a piece of the Room.

"Buffy Summers, Slayer," she declared

"Rupert Giles, Watcher."

"Kyla Ericson, Human Military Liaison."

"Willow Rosenberg, witch."

"Faith, slayer," she took no last name for herself. She still considered the Mayor to be more of a father to her then any other man in her life, he may have nurtured her psychotic side, but in his own way he had loved her. Unfortunately his name had no place in a meeting of the Council.

"Xander Harris, Human, Watcher I suppose and builder extraordinaire," he claimed with a slight grin that tweaked at the stark black eye patch. The stone tablet engraving his every word.

"Anonymous, Neutral Party," the demon declared, his voice ringing out in the small room, as if it wanted to fill the corners with the echoes of his words.

Giles cleaned his glasses as he spoke, the heat of the Room having fogged them up, "We have been brought together in this fashion due to a matter of the utmost seriousness, one of our own has refused to return to us, she has denied our authority and in this early time of the new Council it is crucial that we do not allow ourselves to be perceived as being so weak we are unable to control one of our own."

There was regret in his voice, deep regret, but there was also a practicality, an underlying ruthlessness which had only rarely been exercised.

"Do we all agree that this defiance can not be tolerated?" He asked, and there was a general murmur of consensus.

"In truth, we have been convened in order to decide on an appropriate means of recourse, something which will make a statement to all those other organisations and individuals who are watching our every move. All input is now welcome," and as he spoke those last words he returned his glasses to his face and let out a soft sigh.

"Incarceration?" Kyla offered, "Stockades are old fashioned, but the military still uses the brig as a way to deny an individual their rights to freedom and as a suitable punishment for certain transgressions."

"Not easy to hold an unwilling slayer," Xander countered, "Not to mention refusal to follow a superiors orders are grounds for a dishonourable discharge in the military."

"Why can you not simply expel her from the Council?" The anonymous neutral party asked

"It's what she wants," Faith replied before Xander could, "It also wouldn't address the whole weakness issue."

"Long term incarceration, perhaps for the remainder of her life? It would be quite different from trying to hold her temporarily, we would not need to be so gentle with her," The anonymous demon suggested

"We couldn't do that to her," Willow protested, "We'd be better off just killing her!"

Beneath his hood the demon quirked an eyebrow, and while no one else could see the action they all shared the same thought. And Willow seemed to realise it.

"No, no way in hell will I let that happen." The dangerous gleam that filled her eyes then practically dared someone to say something about it.

Faith obliged, "Willow none of us would ever considered killing Kennedy, but she's already in exile, our options are limited to holding her or killing her. If we tried to hold onto her for a short time against her will she would be pissed at us and we would have just made her a very dangerous enemy…but if we were to imprison her for the rest of her life? Which could be a very very long time that would be cruel. I know I was in a prison".

"This is insane, we can not be considering killing Kennedy," At everyone's silence, and the former Scooby gangs guilty looks she yelled, "What the hell is wrong with you all?!"

"I hate to get bitchy about this Willow, but you made this happen," Faith replied quietly, "You were the one who i_ordered/i_ Kennedy to come back because you were too horny to leave her be, and you were the one who reported her for not obeying you like a trained puppy."

The dark haired slayers words struck a chord in the witch, and they struck deeply enough to cut off any retaliatory comments.

"Are we seriously talking about having Kennedy killed?" she whispered, and despite her refusal to look at them the rest of the Council could hear the tears in Willow's voice. Or maybe it was just the fine layer of smoke in the room.

"No," Buffy finally said, her voice cutting through the poised silence. "We will not ever condone the killing of one of our own, but there is another option," and then she looked towards Giles.

And Giles for the first time looked uncomfortable with what he was about to say, he had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Among the Old Laws of the Council there is a…precedent which might apply here, its based on certain ancient warfare's, and is actually still seen sometimes in gangs or violently organised groups."

"Giles," Buffy cut in, "Get to the point."

"Oh right of course. I think the answer is the Gauntlet," he said definitively, only Faith, Kyla and surprisingly Xander reacted.

"You're serious?" Xander asked

"Yes," Buffy answered for Giles

"That's insane, I mean seriously Buffy, that is insane."

"As insane as killing her outright or locking her up for the next eighty years?" she retorted, "You know I wouldn't do this lightly Xander," and there was a pleading in her voice for him to understand, and he did reluctantly nod.

"For those of us not in the loop, someone mind explaining what the Gauntlet is?" Willow asked

"The Gauntlet," Kyla began, "is basically where someone walks between two lines of people who do the best to beat the shit out of them. If they make it to the other end alive they are free to go, otherwise they die," Her voice reeked of disapproval

"Mostly they die," Xander added

"Its brutal and barbaric," Kyla continued

"The gangs do it sometimes," Faith pitched in, drawing on her extensive experience from when she was younger, "Beat the shit out of you, or knife you as a way of sending you out of the family. There was this one group I knew who use to put the person in an old fridge and cap it a dozen times, you live, you're free."

"Cap?" Willow asked, though she probably already knew what it meant, she just didn't want to believe it

"Shoot," Kyla said.

"We can't do that," Willow said, "No, we can't do that to her, not ever."

"Willow please, we don't have any other choice. This is the only humane thing to do, Kennedy will be free of us and we will have sufficiently demonstrated our resolve-"

"No-" The witch tried to interrupt her friend, but Buffy ran right over whatever Willow wanted to say

"This is the only way to clean up your mess Willow," and it was harsh way to say it, but it was the only way, "You made this mess and now we have to deal with it." Before the witch could even begin to refuse again Buffy turned to the rest of the Council.

"I'm calling for a vote as to whether we will submit Kennedy to the Gauntlet." The moment Buffy declared the vote a white haze enveloped the room, surrounding each of them so that they were obscured from sight.

"Rest easy," a distorted unrecognisable voice called from all around her, "This haze is a part of the Room and serves to protect our anonymity in any vote, it will remain until we have each cast our vote."

What sounded to Buffy like the exact same voice asked, "How do we cast our votes?"

And again the same voice replied, "There should be two small lights on the table in front of you, The red is Yay, the Blue is Nay, simply touch it."

Taking a deep breath it felt as if Buffy's thoughts were moving a thousand miles a second, she didn't really like Kennedy, but it was her duty to protect all of her slayers, not just the ones she liked. And there was a very real chance that Kennedy would be killed if she endured the Gauntlet. It was also all so stupid.

Them not letting her leave because they wanted Willow to be happy, them shoving her away, and then trying to control her again. She loved Willow, but right then Buffy hated her just a little bit as well for having forced the Council into such a situation.

She touched the red light. As she did so, the slayer saw a red light blink into existence in the middle of the haze, aside from herself; it was all she could see until another little red light joined it, and another, and another. Presumably as each of the others cast their vote a new light was joining hers.

Such a simple system, but so effective, she didn't know which of the others had voted Yay, only that someone else had. Until five red lights existed in the middle of that haze beside two blue lights.

The haze dissolved around them, leaving only the flickering lights at the centre of the table.

Giles sighed in a semblance of exhaustion combined with exasperation, as he spoke, "This Room is now sealed for the next 24 hours as we each consider the decisions we have made, at the conclusion of the 24 hour period a second vote will be taken."

**Lenore**

**Location Unknown**

In a filth ridden, flea infested motel room Lenore lay in a puddle of her own vomit with dried blood crusting her to the mouldy carpet. Her skin was stretched and her face was gaunt, waxen even with thick dark black hollows surrounding her eyes. The rest of her was in pretty much the same shape, stained, grime-covered clothes that wore torn in places, and worn through in others.

In short, she was a wreck. Life since Dallas had not been good for her, being violated by a monstrous creature was only part of it. She had been through worse in her time, been through it and come out stronger for it…but it was as if the world was conspiring against her, she had well and truly fallen off the wagon, drinking from the soft flesh of humanity once more. But it was as if the more she fed the less she got from it, her body was wasting away around her no matter how much she drank.

And the emotional pain, gods it made the physical agony almost bearable. The trauma from her packs death was suddenly there all the time, as if she was finally, truly grieving for them, and it was utterly destroying her. She could barely move anymore, barely think or breathe…good thing she didn't really need to breathe, but the point was the same. Lenore was hanging on by a thread, a damaged, dry fraying thread.

That threads name was Kennedy…why the thought of the slayer she had betrayed and almost killed would keep her going, she didn't know, but there it was anyway.

The thought of Kennedy's soft brown eyes, the sweet taste of her supple lips, or the feel of their bodies beside one another. It was as those thoughts were rolling through her mind that she was pushed further into her insanity, with a hard and fast crack the door to the motel burst, shattered from its frame under the force of a slayers power to reveal Kennedy in all of her glory, the harsh light of day casting a golden halo around the slayer as she stood in the doorway, taking in the awful stench and sight of Lenore and the room.

Lenore herself wrenched herself from the carpet and skittered across the floor, shying from the harsh lights that Kennedy had brought into the room. She snarled, spittle flying from her mouth in all its vampiric form as she huddled against the wall furthest from the door.

If she could have gathered her thoughts she would have been ashamed and horrified of how she looked, what she was, what she had become…all where Kennedy could see her. Tears were bubbling from her eyes even as she clutched at her face and thumped against the wall muttering incoherently.

She felt the gentle stroke of a hand coming to rest on her shoulder and she snapped at it, her teeth closing on open air as the slayer jerked back. "Lenore," the slayer said.

"It's me, its Kennedy," the vampire just lunged at her ferally, wildly, out of control

"Sweet mother of Jesus," a new voice rang out, a man's deeper voice, a voice that struck a chord deep within the bestial creature Lenore was becoming. She knew that voice…just like she knew the woman's voice…but everything was so hazy, so confused…so painful…she needed blood…i_Yes/i_, she thought insanely, i_blood, more blood, blood make all good, blood make clearly think_…/i

Her mind was deteriorating so quickly, and in a vague sort of way she knew why. And again it all came down to Kennedy, what was left of her mind was retreating, running, it didn't want the slayer to see her the way she was…the only way to protect herself was to shut down, leaving the baser, more volatile instincts to deal with the world.

"There's nothing left of her Kennedy," another voice chimed in. The vampire couldn't make sense of the words anymore, but she still heard them, and somewhere deep inside they were being filed away until she could think again.

Metal scrapped along metal in a quick grinding sound, the sound of a blade being drawn from its sheathe.

"What the hell are you doing?!" The slayer whispered harshly, turning her back on the pitiful creature that was Lenore and moving away from her.

"She's off the wagon, and she's out of her fucking mind," Dean phrased it so eloquently. "I mean look at her," and the blade gestured in her direction, "there is nothing left, and for everyone's safety she has to be put down."

"You spared her life once, hell you helped her!" Kennedy declared

"That was different," Sam said, his voice higher then Dean's, but no less resolved as he too drew a small machete, "She was sane then, rational and deserved to be helped, now…"

"Now she needs our help even more!" Kennedy practically screamed

"No. Now she needs to be put down before she hurts anyone else, she's not the person she use to be, hell there's a trail of bodies leading here and this room is covered in blood." Dean justified harshly, "There's nothing left to be saved," and as he had distracted the slayer, his brother had slipped around her.

Sam stood over Lenore, looking down into her fathomless eyes with only the smallest twinge of guilt as he drew back the blade.

"If she had a choice, she would want to be stopped now. Before she could hurt anyone else." Dean said, but he had lost Kennedy's attention as she realised where the second brother was.

"Noooo," she screamed, twisting violently as she gave the eldest Winchester a thoughtless kick to the stomach, half using him as a way to propel herself into the second brother a fraction of a second before he would have taken Lenore's head.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He screamed as they grappled for the weapon, unfortunately for him there were few humans who could match a slayer in strength. The blade bit into her hands drawing a sharp pain and the scent of blood as she twisted and snapped the blade in two. The kick she delivered was savage and he smacked into the wall with an audible crunch, a crunch that almost hid the sound of a gun being cocked.

Kennedy glanced back at the first brother, he stood clutching at his ribs, pain clear across his face, but holding a gun pointed in her direction. Held by a very steady hand, despite the broken ribs.

They were all frozen in their tableau then, Dean having the advantage while Sam began to pull himself up from the ground. "You pack a hell of a punch, but I think the round goes to the gun," Dean tried to quip, but his voice was strained.

Kennedy wasn't sure what she would have done then, she was fast enough that she could probably have gotten to Sam and used him as a shield. But then she didn't really think either brother was going to hurt her, didn't seem to be in their nature to hurt a girl…or one of the good guys…but then she didn't have to worry about any of that. The vampire they were all fighting over, and who they had all forgotten made her presence known.

She blurred forward from her huddled position, violently placing herself between Kennedy and the gun…Dean pulled the trigger.

It boomed through the small room as the piece of lead smacked into the vampire, a vampire who could more or less shrug off a bullet wound. Lenore continued to hurtle towards Dean, carrying him clear across the room and smashing him into the ground. Straddling his body as he fell while she desperately snapped at his throat, hungry for the taste of his blood.

Glancing to the side Kennedy delivered another devastating blow to Sam, a sidekick that put him out cold in the moment before she leapt towards her insane and somewhat monstrous lover.

"Lenore!" she screamed, trying to drag the vampire from the hunter, "Stop it Lenore! Stop it!"

In her savage state Lenore was unfeeling, uncaring, and bloody strong. Even with Dean pushing at the vampire, Kennedy couldn't drag her off him and any second those razor sharp teeth of hers were going to slice into his throat.

With the deepest regret Kennedy hit the vampire, one hard strike across the face which broke the ferocity of the attack as Lenore looked towards the slayer, confused, upset, and maybe, just maybe with a spark of recognition. Kennedy hit her again, this time with enough force to knock her cold. Much as she had done to Sam moments before.

Without letting her lover's body fall to the ground Kennedy hoisted Lenore onto her shoulder, "She's my problem," the slayer said quietly to Dean, "And I'll handle her…but if you come after her again I will kill you." And she meant it.

She ground her foot into his throat for emphasis, "Do you understand?"

He just nodded glumly. Kennedy was under no illusions, as soon as he and his brother were capable of doing so they would be hunting the two women down, but for the moment they had a brief respite unless one of the other many hunters caught up to them…which was a very real possibility since Lenore had been leaving such a bloody trail…but Kennedy would deal with that when and if it became a problem. Right then all that mattered was Lenore. Her sweet and somewhat insane Lenore.

**Sometime Later**

Flesh and bone strained against the cold steel of chains as an insane vampire repeatedly tried to throw herself across the room. "Blllloood! BLOOD!! FEED ME!" she screamed with such raw primal ferocity that Kennedy winced.

"Rip you open! Feed me! Blood! I smell it, taste it," the vampire was gnashing her teeth together, slobbering as she continued to lunge at the slayer, being jerked back by the restraints.

Kennedy had taken Lenore about eighty miles from the Winchester brothers before she began to stir, and then it had been a fight to control her. A fight which left Kennedy clawed up and bleeding, but eventually she proved to be the victor and she had managed to restrain Lenore. With some big fricken chains.

They were in the steel reinforced shelter of some old farm in the middle of nowhere, and with the doors shut the shelter was almost completely soundproof. Running a hand along her cheek Kennedy felt where her skin had been slashed up by Lenore's fingernails, she felt the dried crusting blood. Only some of which was hers.

Around the two of them lay a number of ripped blood bags, but Lenore had refused to feed, just ripped them apart and gone back to demanding to be fed. Her eyes darting along the line of Kennedy's throat, she was salivating as stared at the small steady beating of her pulse. Apparently the only thing on the menu was Kennedy.

Were the Winchesters right? Was it too late to save her?

Didn't matter, she could see that spark in Lenore's eyes. A hint of the woman that was still in there somewhere, trying to claw her way back out.

"Baby," Kennedy whispered, crouching near to her lover but just beyond reach, "I love you."

"I love you and I will do anything I have to, to make you whole again," and she meant it, if it cost her life she would do it.

There was an almost feral recognition as the vampire snarled at her, and lunged for her, screaming for blood. For Kennedy's blood.

And that's when she got one of the truly worst ideas that she had ever conceived of…she was going to feed Lenore her blood. She was a slayer and that meant her blood was potent, or in other words, it packed one hell of a punch. Any vampire that drank the blood of a slayer gained enormous power from it, part of the reason a slayers blood was so highly coveted.

She had also heard that a vampire who drank from a slayer could heal practically anything, Angel had done it once. He had been saved from the living death by Buffy's blood, fresh from the source…of course Lenore had already been packed full of Kennedy's blood months ago…but it was always possible that a fresh dose was what she needed.

"Goddess help me if I'm wrong," she whispered as she glanced around the cold hard concrete of their safe haven. It was a barren room, and its entrance hard to find, if anything went wrong that was it. No more Kennedy, because the most effective way for Lenore to receive the maximum potency of the slayers blood was to drink it directly from her…

**The Council Room **

**24 hours After the First Vote**

Despite the inability of the Council to leave "The Room", reports still trickled down to them. Very disturbing reports from Seers in the Coven, operatives in LA and several independent hunters in America who were closely monitored by the Council.

It appeared that Kennedy had gone off the deep end, far off the deep end. And more disturbingly some very powerful magic had been erected around the wayward slayer, shielding her from the visions of the Coven. Buffy strongly suspected Angel had something to do with that.

But despite the lack of magical sight, the rest of the reports were disturbing enough. Kennedy had attacked other hunters. Irrationally, violently. Apparently in the interests of protecting a vampire.

"Lenore," Xander stated quietly.

Each member of the Council had taken their position at the table to discuss the new information before they took a second vote.

"The woman who resembles Tara," he explained, "She must be the vampire."

Buffy nodded in response.

"Some," Willow started but then coughed, "Some of the wounds that put Kennedy in the hospital when I went to see her make a lot more sense if a vampire did them. The bites, the blood loss…" she trailed off. Every word was a nail in Kennedy's metaphorical coffin, or considering anything the Council decided could end up with Kennedy dead, maybe the coffin wasn't so metaphorical after all.

"Not all vampires are necessarily bad," Faith interjected

"Faith, this vampire put Kennedy in the hospital and she is still protecting it," Buffy exclaimed

"Hey we don't know that for sure, where's the evidence that says this is the vampire who put her in the hospital? Besides B, Angel put both of us in the hospital at one time or another, _he's_ still on the home team."

Buffy just frowned at the raven-haired slayer; they would have to agree to disagree on that one. Even since Wolfram and Hart's destruction she didn't quite trust Angel, however as far as Faith was concerned he could do no wrong. And begrudgingly Buffy would admit that Angel seemed to be working for the side of good at the moment.

"Whether this particular vampire was the one who put the young slayer in hospital is a moot point," The Anonymous Demon stated, "However there is ample evidence to suggest that this vampire has left a trail of corpses through Dallas in the last several months." He looked towards Willow as he said it, her vote was one of the two that needed to be changed…though Buffy wasn't quite sure who else had voted Nay to the Gauntlet.

Unfortunately Willow still didn't look convinced, "She is protecting a murderous vampire Willow, and hurting hunters in the process. She has to be stopped."

The Witch responded then, and she was crying as she did, and not soft tears. Harsh painful tears that turned her face into a red blotchy mess.

"What did she say…?" Kyla asked in her quiet Native American inflection

Buffy sighed as she spoke, "She said that she abstains her vote,"

Half the circle looked towards Giles at that, waiting to know what it meant for her to abstain her vote. "It means," he said sadly in his upper crust British tone, "That in this case a unanimous vote requires only the six of us," He looked towards the rest of the Council with weary eyes as he continued.

"We may as well dispense with the secrecy, I move that Kennedy be tried via the Gauntlet. All who are in favour?"

Six hands slowly rose into the air,

"All who oppose?" Whoever the second Nay vote had been apparently no longer felt that way. No member of the Council would ever know that it had been Giles himself who had voted against the use of the Gauntlet, no member of the Council would ever need to know just what a bad idea he thought it was.

**Back in America**

The bloodied, gnawed, body of a certain slayer lay on the boarders of life and death, almost vacant eyes staring at the huddled form of her vampire lover. It would only be moments until Kennedy was unconscious, and without help, soon after that she would be dead. Just another in a long line of corpses, not the first slayer to die by the hands of a supernatural entity, and surely not the last…but it still made her heart ache to think just who had signed her death warrant, who had delivered the killing stroke. But she also couldn't complain, despite her fierce desire to live, she had gotten her wish. Lenore was healing, her mind pulling itself back together from whatever trauma had wrenched it apart.

Her eyes shone clear and bright, the force of Lenore's personality slowly beaming out once more, it was simply taking too long. Kennedy had tried to be cautious, she had kept the vampire chained and made only a small cut on her wrist. But Lenore was more powerful then you average vampire to begin with, and a fresh infusion of slayers blood amped her up to the point that she ripped the chains free of the concrete walls and forcibly embraced her.

Serrated teeth slicing through still healing flesh, taking the blood from the artery in her neck. Kennedy's own heart betraying her as it fervently pumped what little life she still had left into the vampire's mouth. And then it stopped, and blessed cool air rushed across the open wound as Lenore jerked herself back. A tortured expression crossing her face as she realized what she had been doing…again…wherever her mind had retreated to, it hadn't been far enough to escape the certainty that she was killing Kennedy.

Time was frozen in that moment, with the slayer stretched out across the cold concrete floor, breathing her last breaths as Lenore watched on, horrified to have been the instrument of Kennedy's death. And then time began to move again, slowly, with little things coming into perspective, and then it was a crash of events. Almost like a series of frozen images rapidly changing.

"Oh god no," the hoarse desperate voice proclaimed, "No!" she declared shuffling towards the bleeding slayer, her vampiric features melting away as if they were water. "What have I done?" she whispered, "What have _you_ done?" Kennedy was drawn into Lenore's lap, the pressure of the vampire's hand being the only thing that was keeping her from bleeding out.

"Oh Kennedy, why did you do it?" Despair screaming through her voice, settling into her heart, "It would have been better for me to just die," to which Kennedy tried to shake her head but found she was lacking the strength. "But its not over," the vampire said, a ring of hope in her voice, a sudden realization twinkling in her eyes as she brought her own wrist to her mouth and savagely opened the vein.

Kennedy found the strength. She feebly blocked Lenore's descending arm, weakly pushing it away while she tried to shake her head again, "No…" she groaned. "No," she repeated a little more steadily.

"But I can save you," Lenore whispered earnestly, "Let me save you!" She begged. But Kennedy couldn't do it, she didn't want to die, but she didn't want to be a vampire either, she couldn't be, She wasn't wired to exist that way.

"I'll kill myself if you do," or at least that's what she meant to say, it came out soft and gurgled, but Lenore got the idea. And Kennedy could see her weighing her options, considering violating the slayers will to save her. "Please don't," she begged as she watched the resolve in Lenore's eyes diminish a touch further, "please…I-I can't be that way…"

And she lost the strength to say anything more, her arm falling limply by her side, Kennedy could barely feel her lovers arms around her anymore. And wouldn't you know it? On the verge of death or becoming a vampire, and still things could get worse. With a heavy groaning the twin steel doors to the storm shelter were wrenched upon, falling hard to either side and letting in an almost blinding ray of light, which caused Lenore to flinch in agony as it lanced through her eyes. But she didn't move, didn't let go of Kennedy.

"Sam!" She exclaimed as she recognised the descending silhouette of the younger Winchester brother, the hilt of a long thick blade in one hand and the handle of a small crossbow in the other. Even from a dozen feet away Lenore could smell the blood on the blade and the bow, without a doubt dead mans blood. She could only vaguely recall a smattering of images of the two Winchesters finding her in that hotel; she squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered Kennedy brutally beating them around to save Lenore.

Sam bore the very obvious signs of the fight as he limped down the stairs, Dean close behind him. Though unlike his brother he held a gun in either hand, with a machete clipped onto his belt. They were there to kill her, and she welcomed it. She could feel the sluggish beat of Kennedy's heart, a beat that was growing steadily weaker, and for that crime she would gladly meet her executioners. She didn't even bother to look at them anymore, just looked down at her dying lover with tears in her eyes, her hair trailing down to cover her face.

"What are you waiting for?" She demanded after a prolonged silence in which the brothers did nothing.

Finally she wrenched her eyes from Kennedy to meet the brother's gaze, "Sons of a bitch. Just do it! Finish It!" she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth as she yelled. And yet still the Winchester brothers just looked down at her. What were they waiting for?

"She's rational again," Sam said at last

"She's killed a lot of people since we last met her Sammy," the elder brother said grimly, "She's done worse things then a lot of what we've hunted."

"Hey!" She shouted, "She is right here! And I am telling you, KILL ME!"

At her onslaught Dean raised both pistols, a steady, unwavering aim on her even as he winced from what she suspected was a broken rib or three. "And she wants to die,"

"Yes, I do! Now end it, finish it, kill me you mother fucking bastards, just do it!" She swore

"Goodbye Lenore," Sam said softly as he loosed the bolt…

…She didn't know who was more surprised when said bolt proceeded to shatter in mid air, inches from Lenore, as if it had struck an invisible barrier. Lenore knew her jaw dropped in astonishment, and she watched as Dean's head jerked towards Sam, "Hey!" He said quickly, "That wasn't me!"

Both of them looked at Lenore in confusion until finally a somewhat amused laugh permeated the storm shelter, a laugh which echoed around them in absolutely amusement, "It was me boys and girls," the newcomer declared as Dean swivelled to face her pulling twin triggers as he did, and in the confined space the boom of the weapons was deafening to a normal human, let alone to Lenore's supernaturally enhanced hearing.

The two projectiles shot towards the woman who was dressed in a sleek black business suit, with her auburn hair pulled back into a knot. And as with the arrow the two bullets shattered against some form of invisible barrier.

"Tut tut," the woman chided smilingly, going as far as wagging a single slender finger at them, "Now boys, I'm a lawyer, but I'm hardly a monster."

That invisible barrier began to slowly move forward, forcing the Winchesters to take a step back. And another. And another until they were pressed against the back wall, Sam sweating as he squinted at the barrier in obvious concentration. The newcomer only smiled wider at his efforts, "So you do have a little bit of juice after all, I'm impressed," and she did sound genuinely impressed, "Unfortunately for i_me/i_ I'm also on a schedule, and unfortunately for i_you/i_, I am also considerably more powerful then you Sam Winchester. Now," she looked towards Lenore, "If you would please bring Kennedy we really must be leaving."

"Why are you helping us?" Lenore blurted out, and the woman continued to smile

"Kennedy owes a debt, she can hardly repay it if she's, oh say dead? Now can she?" Lenore wanted to say something else but was quickly cut off, "However if we do not move quickly Ms Lenore, she _will_ die, is that what you want?"

Lenore replied by lifting Kennedy into her arms and with a small force of effort stood up, "That's what I thought," she stated, but before they left she half turned to face the Winchesters "For future reference boys, my name is Bethany and I work for Angel Investigations, I have little doubt that we will meet again in the future," She even went as far as to leave a small white card with silver lettering beside the stairs as they left.

Emerging into the sunlight above, Lenore winced and then jumped as with a casual flick of her head Bethany slammed the two very heavy storm shelter doors.

"Quickly now," was all she said as they departed.

Kennedy awoke several days later in a private suite of a public hospital, all happily stitched up and doped up with morphine, which her body was proceeding to metabolise exceedingly quickly. Fortunately the doctor who had been attending her for the last few days was very well acquainted with the supernatural world, and kept his questions to the minimum amount of information necessary to safely treat her…honestly speaking though all she had needed was to be stitched up and given a blood transfusion.

With a few days of rest her body was really taking care of itself. She was just glad that she had actually woken up again, when she blacked out in the storm shelter she thought that was it. Death. The final act…or maybe that if she did wake up again it would be because Lenore had turned her. The thought still sent shudders down her spine.

However having Lenore sitting by her bed, gently holding her hand was also doing a world of wonders for Kennedy. The two of them hadn't really talked about what happened, and they didn't really need to. Though the slayer had been surprised to learn that she owed her life to the timely arrival of Bethany…and the medical evacuation helicopter, which had been waiting for them a short distance away.

Apparently Angel Investigations had plans for her, which considering it meant she was still alive didn't upset her all that much. They might have some ulterior motives for what they were doing, but in the long run they were still the good guys…and again she couldn't emphasize the whole being alive part too much either.

"What happens now?" Lenore asked, her head resting on the edge of Kennedy's hospital bed so that she wouldn't have to look at the slayer.

"Well," Kennedy began as she stroked Lenore's hair; "First we get me out of here. I've had enough of hospitals to last me a lifetime. Second we get me some new clothes, because everything I have is either trashed or lost, and third we go to Boston." She said it all so nonchalantly that Lenore almost didn't hear the "i_we/i_ go to Boston," emphasis on the i_we/i_.

She looked up into the slayers beautiful brown eyes and said hopefully, "_We?_"

"Yes. **We**." Kennedy reiterated, "Its kind of hard for me to introduce you to my parents if you're not there." And with that one sentence Kennedy showed the strength of her faith in Lenore, she was going to introduce a vampire to her parents for god sake! At the same time she realised that she felt a wave of queasiness slide through her.

The last time she had been formally introduced to someone's parents it had been at a betrothal ceremony when she was still human!

"I'm not exactly safe to be around right now Kennedy," she admitted quietly and the slayer just frowned at her, "I've been drinking human blood again," and to her great shame she also said, "And I've been killing." Tears bloomed in her eyes as she confessed that and she looked away. Kennedy simply placed a finger beneath the vampires jaw and gently forced her to meet the slayers eyes, "I trust you," she said, "I love you."

And then they kissed, just the softest brushing of their lips, but it was all they needed, all that was necessary for them. That soft kiss spoke volumes, Kennedy trusted her. Kennedy loved her. And more then that, she forgave her for what she had done…she shouldn't have, but she did anyway.

Too bad they never made it to Boston; it had the potential to be something special for both the vampire and the slayer. Only a group of inconsiderate vampire hunters who were still gunning for Lenore had a different idea on how she should be spending her time.

The two of them left the hospital and procured a new car with what seemed to be Kennedy's unending source of money. Lenore vaguely wondered at the time how the slayer had lost everything else over the last week or so, but yet she had managed to hold onto her credit card…she decided it was something to do with the modern generation of women.

They bought a large white van with tinted black windows that could have belonged to a serial killer and that was that. They were gone from whatever little town they had been in and were heading along a highway in the general direction of Boston when Kennedy did something strange, she thanked Lenore.

"For what?" The vampire asked surprised, unsure of why she was being thanked

"For not turning me," she said softly, all of her attention focused on the road as she drove. Which in itself was a bad idea, she had just gotten out of hospital for wounds that would have killed anyone else, and yet she still refused to let Lenore drive…her reasoning had been that Lenore had recently been out of her mind and somewhat insane…which as far as reasons went it was kind of a decent one, but she still thought she should be driving.

Lenore wasn't sure what she was going to say in response, but thankfully she was saved from having to try when Kennedy abruptly pulled over. "We just past someone who looks like they've broken down," she said by way of explanation. Lenore smiled at that, Kennedy might kill the monsters that went bump in the night to protect the human world, but she had never really struck the vampire as someone who would pull over to help someone whose car had broken down. Of course maybe she just wanted to shut down the conversation she had started, that sounded more like it.

As she slid out of the van Lenore slipped on a pair of illegally dark sunnies to shield herself from the light, it was a blessed relief in the moments when her eyes adapted and she avoided the stinging sensations. As she walked towards the broken down jeep her new soft leather boots made barely a sound on the tarred highway. Her hair was pulled back in a loose knot, and she was also wearing a pair of dark brown cargo pants, a loose vest and long sleeved dark green shirt and a military fatigue type jacket. The entire ensemble had cost her less then thirty bucks at an op shop, and she didn't mind having an eclectic sense of fashion.

Stalking ahead of her, Kennedy was more fashion orientated with dark blue jeans, a pair of comfortable black boots, a red tank top, and despite the heat a cool black leather jacket.

"Hey," the slayer called out to the three young women crowded around the open bonnet of the jeep, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Lenore was standing a few feet further back, a little bored by the situation as she thought just what a perfect place for a trap they were in. The jeep was on the edge of a small drop, five or six feet down with a couple of big concrete pipes sticking out from under the highway. There was also a small tree line a couple hundred feet to the right, on the other side of the highway to the pipes, it would be so easy to hide a small group of people in the pipes, use someone on the road to attract attention. And then use the people in the pipes to hold someone there, while a bunch of reinforcements could come charging in from the dodgy tree line.

It was as she was thinking that, that Lenore took the time to sniff the air, and what do you know, the scent of gunpowder and oil from recently cleaned weapons. Focusing she could hear the slight shuffling of moving bodies, "Kennedy!" she screamed in the same instant that one of the women at the jeep turned around with a nice shiny gun pointed at the slayer.

"Move and your dead," the black woman said firmly, her voice calm and empty, there was no doubt it Lenore's mind that she meant it, if Kennedy even flinched she would be shot.

"Same for you vampire," the second woman declared as she swivelled to point a crossbow at Lenore. The second hunter was younger and she was probably beautiful a short time ago, but ugly red and pink scar tissue crisscrossed her face and throat, two crystal blue eyes peering out from under the mangled flesh.

The third woman said nothing, just smiled in a sadistic manner as she sidestepped, providing a rough semi circle around Lenore and Kennedy. The vampire cocked her head to the side slightly as she heard the crunch of dirt and the chink of metal on metal as several men ascended from the side of the highway. All of who bore eyes as cold as the grave and to her sensitive nose reeked of death. Six freaking hunters…either she or Kennedy had really done something to piss them off; it was rare for two or three hunters to collaborate, but six? It was practically unheard of.

"There's a sniper in the tree line," the first black woman declared, "Just in case you have any nasty surprises up your sleeves. Now, Ms Kennedy you are free to go," Ok so they were definitely after Lenore, i_what the hell had she done to them/i_? She vaguely considered Gordon, the hunter she had killed…but could that kind of asshole actually have enough close friends who would have been upset over his death?

Kennedy stood her ground, neither moving nor speaking and the black woman flicked her eyes back towards the slayer in irritation, "We have been specifically mandated against interfering with you, but if you don't leave now the Council can go fuck itself while we take you apart."

The slayer blinked at the hunter's comment, the only sign that her words had any affect before she actually spoke, "The Council is protecting me?" She asked sceptically and the black woman smiled, and it wasn't a nice smile.

"Your…Council…has _other_ plans for you," she replied, "A slayer who turns her back on the fight and goes whoring off with a vampire, its sickening," and she looked like she genuinely meant that, a wave of disgust sliding across her face as she spoke. "And I would dearly love to see what they have in store for you, so i_leave/i_," and for further emphasis she cocked the hammer on her old school revolver, "because like I already said I have no problems putting you in the ground right here and right now."

And then for all intensive purposes she ignored the slayer and turned to focus on Lenore, "You on the other hand," and she smiled in a sickly sweet fashion as she said it, "You we intend to take our time with, Gordon was my friend," the last part was said more quietly, "And you are going to pay in full for his death."

There was nothing Lenore could really say, not so deep down she felt they had a right to their vengeance, a right to stop her before she hurt anyone else. Gordon hadn't exactly been innocent, in fact he had murdered her entire family, but he had also killed other bad things. Unscrupulous, immoral. But in the end a protector of the weak, just like the three women and men in front of her now.

They killed the bad things more often then they killed the good, and once they were done with her it would be back to hunting other monsters. If it had been her alone Lenore would have just let them take her, torture her and eventually kill her…she deserved it for a thousand different sins over the centuries…but she wasn't alone and somehow she didn't think Kennedy would be willing to let them kill her…

But she also couldn't let Kennedy fight them, she wasn't a 100, and if the hunter was telling the truth about a sniper in the tree line then the two of them would die even if by some miracle they were fast enough to the put down the six hunters around them.

"Fine," the black hunter declared, and in that moment the world slowed down. The hot dry air brushed along the vampires skin, she felt the sun beating down upon her and beads of perspiration sliding down her cheeks and building along the back of her neck. She was intensely aware of a sudden dryness in her throat as she began to move, a small rock grinding beneath her boot as she snarled and jerked at the sudden onslaught of a single bullet. The boom echoed out into the deserted land surrounding them, fading away as a sharp pain punched its way through Lenore's gut, blood welling up from the clear circular wound. But the pain of the bullet was nothing as a bolt from the second hunters crossbow thunked into the flesh of her shoulder, she grimaced and staggered at that. A hot fiery agony surging through her veins, polluting her body in a horrifically painful manner. As the poison of dead mans blood coasted through her system it carried with it an icy lethargic sense, as if the cold hands of the grave were at last taking a hold of her. Reaching inside of her and dragging her down, she sunk to her knees, her hands clutching at the bolt protruding from her shoulder as a sudden wave of nauseating dizziness overwhelmed her.

She looked towards her lover who was frozen in place by the gun still trained on her, all Lenore could do was reach out a hand in desperation as she watched Kennedy reach back…and then in a wisp of black smoke the slayer dissolved into the wind and was gone.

**The Deepest Bowels of the Council Chambers**

Beneath even the most sacred of rooms within the Council, miles beneath the buildings, and deep within the bowels of the earth, so deep in fact that when the First's preacher had attacked the Council, there was a cavern that was left completely untouched. Its entrance only sealed over by the aftermath of the explosions until the New Council dug it open once more.

The cavern was nearly a mile in diameter, carved into the Earth through the magic of generations of witches. It stands hundreds of feet high and as wisps of black smoke coalesced to form a confused and unsettled slayer, she found that there was a disturbing sense of age to the room. An ancient and monumental presence, which may have been forgotten over time, but that had lost none of its power.

The slayer shuddered as she knelt in the cold earth, forced to brace herself with both arms to keep from toppling over. She was huddled in the centre of a circle carved into the ground, symbols and runes with elemental representations placed at each point of a pentagram, which encompassed her. Black robed figures stood around her, chanting in an arcane language, but with her appearance they abruptly cut off, turned as one and each disappeared into the far reaching darkness of the cavern. Apparently their job was done once she had been successfully summoned.

Kennedy took a deep fluttering breath as she slowly rose to her feet, the nausea that plagued her quickly fading as she looked around the cavern. She was so deep in the earth that ice had formed in patches along the ground. The only source of illumination coming from eight figures, each carrying a flaming torch. And while their fire cut an impressive display in the otherwise pitch black, it was still limited, thirty feet in any direction and the last flickering of light was consumed by darkness.

As she turned a slow circle, her breath freezing and turning to mist, Kennedy took in each of the eight figures, all but one of who were clad in thick robes of varying colours, and the eighth figure was shrouded in darkness. The slayer sensed something far beyond her was happening, something powerful, something ominous, and as if to reinforce her opinion the eight figures raised their flaming torches and in unison struck them into the earth with a deep echoing boom. In silence they turned and walked to the next space in the circle, replacing the robed figure who had previously been standing there. And again they struck their torches into the ground, each time a greater sense of anxiety began to overwhelm the slayer, her fear building through the room, pressing back against her as if it were a physical force.

Eight times they turned and struck the earth with their torches, and each of those eight times the strike reverberated through Kennedy with a greater force. Almost as if they were striking her. With the final blow she actually staggered, thrown back to the ground as the earth shifted beneath her.

"Kennedy," One of the robed figures spoke, but their voice was distorted, mangled and deeper then she thought humanly possible, "Slayer of the Council. You have been Summoned to Judgement." And those words sent a new chill screaming down her spine, summoned to judgement did not sound good.

A second voice spoke; different from the first, but equally as unrecognisable, she couldn't even tell which of the robed figures it had come from, "Refusal to obey the decree's of the Council shows that we are weak. And weakness will be prayed upon by our enemies," Kennedy felt rather stupid when she realised that at least some of those robed figures were Willow, Buffy, Xander, Giles and Faith. They were the embodiment of the Council, and either they were enjoying the theatrics or whatever fate they had in store for her required them…which was ominous in itself. Anything that required big freaky looking robes that concealed identities and magic to conceal voices just didn't seem like it was going to be fun, at least not for her.

"I will answer to the Councils Judgement," she declared, throwing her words into the cold wastelands of the cavern, "But Lenore needs my help right now, send me back!" She demanded

"The vampire is irrelevant," a third voice spoke

"Not to me," Kennedy replied, an underlying threat in her tone. She was willing to face the council's judgement, however unfair she might find it to be that they were arrogant enough to presume they could judge her after they were the ones who turned their backs, but she was not willing to face them when it meant Lenore could die. Hell the last thing Kennedy had seen before she was whisked away was Lenore collapsing with an arrow in her shoulder and a bullet in her stomach.

"She is irrelevant." That same voice said again, "Should you survive you shall be returned to her promptly."

Kennedy was gearing up for a more violent response when a third voice spoke, "Here, in this place, we're outside of normal time," and she had an eerie suspicion that the new voice was Willow, despite being distorted magically there was just something about it that Kennedy recognised, "You will be returned in the exact moment you left." That calmed her nerves a little, but not much. She was so fucking done with the Council and all of their shit.

"Fine, what's your i_udgement?_" She demanded, "Lets get it over with so you can send me back,"

"Kennedy," Another voice pitched in, only that time she could tell who was speaking, and as the slayer looked towards the speaker she saw it was the person who wasn't in a robe. And as she watched the veil of darkness vanished to reveal none other then Bethany, Angel Investigations very own lawyer.

It was a little unexpected. "Kennedy," she said again, "Your Council's judgement could very likely result in your death," i_oh/i_, Kennedy thought, her death? Fine the Council had to make a point, but she had never really thought death was on the table, who the hell had they all turned into? She disobeyed her ex girlfriends demand that she return to England, and suddenly she could be killed for it? That was insane. And Kennedy had no illusions about what would happen if they made that judgement, she was good, but hell Buffy or Faith alone would wipe the floor with her; then there were the magic users…

While her mind was reeling over the fact she might be killed very soon by people who had once been her friends and allies, Kennedy focused on the little irrelevant things, denial at its best. "Wh –" she had to clear her throat, "Why are you here?"

Bethany smiled in return at the slayers uncertainty, "I'm here as your friend," she said simply, "Or at the very least as your ally to see that you're given a fair chance to survive."

"Why?"

"If for no other reason, you have a binding contract with Angel Investigations, which technically makes me your legal representation whether you like it or not. Also," and she gave the other robed figures a decidedly unfriendly look, "Angel and Spike aren't exactly happy with the way that the Council have been conducting themselves, and currently we have enough political power in the supernatural communities to apply a little pressure."

It sort of made sense, but Kennedy still felt like there was more Bethany wasn't saying…but at the same time she felt a level of comfort at the thought of having an ally in the cavern with her, whatever her real motivations might have been.

"Enough of this," One of the Robed figures snarled, "Kennedy, Slayer of the Council, You have been summoned to Judg-"

"We've been through that part already," Kennedy shot back, interrupting the Robed figure, "Could you skip to the end?" She asked as she faked a nice big yawn, "I'm getting bored."

It felt good for her to be her usual bratty self, gave her a small sense of ease as she prepared to face whatever was to come.

"In generous consideration of your own desires the Council has elected for you to face the Gauntlet," and with those words it felt to Kennedy like the temperature had just dropped a few degrees. Her breath came out even icier then before and she unconsciously bit her lip as she gaped at the figures surrounding her.

The freaking Gauntlet? That i_was/i_ a death sentence.

"You have got to be kidding me," she muttered

"Should you survive," and Kennedy could swear there was glee in the speakers voice over the chances of her survival…who on the Council was gunning for her that badly? "All ties with the Council will be severed, you will have no obligations to us, you will no longer answer to us, you will also be bereft of our protection, our influence and our resources. You should also be aware that should you encounter any members of the council or our operatives you will be considered a dangerous individual, potentially an enemy, and it will be at the operative's discretion as to whether they engage you."

Had they ever heard the word, i_harsh_?/i

"Should you find these terms unacceptable you will be summarily executed,"

Kennedy glanced at Bethany who just shrugged, what else was there to do anyway? Accept the terms and probably die, or refuse and definitely die. Choices, choices. Screw it, she thought with a heavy sigh, she was a slayer, death was her life, made sense to go out fighting.

"I accept the terms." And once more a chill wind rose through the cavern, a subtle sense of perversion to it, with an undertone of disdain. _How could a wind have a tone of disdain? _She wondered, but quickly forgot about it as yet another of the robed figures began to speak, and this time she was sure the new speaker was Giles. It still left the question of who the gleeful-about-her-death speaker was though.

Bethany stepped back from the circle, becoming an observer, her torch still flickering in her hand as the seven robed figures proceeded to throw their heads back and strike the ground with their torches. Once more the reverberations caused Kennedy to tremor as the Council moved in a clockwise circle until each member had settled into a new position. A new voice spoke, a distorted voice Kennedy hadn't yet heard and one who spoke with a ring of authority, a demand for obedience.

"The first law of Gauntlet is that survival comes by reaching that pentagram," a robed hand rose to point off into the darkness, and as the Council member pointed a new series of torches sprang to life somewhere in the distance. "Reach it and you have passed the trial. Die and you have failed."

"You also pass if you're the last person standing," Bethany through in as she received what Kennedy thought were probably nasty looks from the Council, "Just making sure she's aware of all her possible outcomes," she justified.

The seven robed Council members once again struck the earth with their torches and walked clockwise. Continuing as if they had never been interrupted.

"The second law of Gauntlet is that the judged shall be bereft of all arms and armour," and as the voice spoke a flash of intense bright white light charged across Kennedy, of course she was unarmed to begin with, but apparently her clothes were armour. As her vision cleared of spots she found she was suddenly considerably colder in the icy cavern…and that she was also stark naked. She had to fight the impulse to cower and try and shield herself from view…taking her clothes was just plain malicious and from the way several robed heads abruptly turned they hadn't been expecting it either. However it didn't seem to discourage anyone so she stood tall and tried to look like she wasn't blushing furiously.

This time the grumbling earth was joined by a flare from the torches as they struck the ground

The next voice chimed in, "Third law of Gauntlet is that no aid may be granted, the penalty for aid is the immediate death of the judged and the person assisting them."

"Fourth law of Gauntlet stipulates that the Judged may only be challenged by those of their own elk, no supernatural being may challenge a normal human." For some reason Kennedy felt the fourth law was important, but she couldn't quite figure out why, it was as if it was a piece of a puzzle and she was missing a shit load of pieces.

"Meaning if you were to suddenly become a normal human midway through the challenge, the Council's forces would become disqualified and you would win the trial by forfeit," The Council slammed their torches into the ground more violently rather then comment on Bethany's explanation of their rules. Not that it mattered, suddenly becoming a normal girl wasn't exactly just going to happen, and its not like she would want it to anyway. She loved being the slayer, loved what she was, she didn't think she could exist without that piece of her.

The distorted voice that Kennedy thought was Willow said, "The fifth law of Gauntlet, all judgements are final, there are no appeals." Since a Gauntlet would usually end in the judged persons death an appeal really wouldn't be a problem most of them time.

"Under the sixth law of Gauntlet, you are offered the opportunity to avoid the brutal agonies and painful humiliation of defeat and elect for immediate execution by beheading, hanging or drowning."

Kennedy just shook her head, she was a little scared, ok a lot scared, but just choosing to die? No way, she was going to fight to the end. Though in a twisted way it was kind of considerate for them to provide optional methods of execution.

"The final law of Gauntlet, the seventh law, states that should the Judged have any final words or requests within a reasonable scope, this is now their opportunity to speak and to be accommodated."

Standing in the midst of the Council's circle, all eyes upon her Kennedy's mind raced in an attempt to find some way out of the insane situation she was in, sadly only one thought sprang to mind as she looked towards Bethany who was very pointedly staring Kennedy in the eyes, trying to say something without words. The cool breeze within the cavern began to pick up in strength; from a breeze it became an icy frost before moving into gale force strength. Which seemed to be almost exclusively reserved for Kennedy, as the robed Council members stood in the violently battering winds without even a slight sway, while her flesh grew ever colder and less responsive.

Finally she asked, "Provided its within reason may I make my final request, _after _I pass," always good to sound confident.

The Council members didn't even hesitate, so sure that she was going to die, "If you survive you may make any damned request you want. Now enough of this, I move that the Gauntlet is now in effect," his hand jerked out towards the second set of burning torches, "From the moment you step forward, and out of this sacred pentagram the Gauntlet is in effect and that is your goal." And then he was gone, he didn't vanish in a flash of light, he wasn't consumed in darkness, he was just gone, as were the rest of the Council, including Bethany.

Only the light of their torches remained, stretching out into the darkness before they faded away, Kennedy wasn't even sure just how far it was between the two pentagrams. Where the light flickered out, there was a large stretch of nothingness…a nothingness that she was sure contained a world of enemies only waiting for her to step out of the protection the circle offered her. The slayer considered taking time to prepare herself mentally for the journey she was about to embark on…but that wasn't really her style, so with a xena-esque war cry Kennedy leapt through the flimsy barrier that the light created and was engulfed in a disorientating nausea as the world radically shifted around her. She expected to land in darkness, instead she hit the soft burning sand of desert and slid down a dune, the almost scolding sand chasing away the chills of the cavern as she managed to roll into a crouched position while she looked around.

Despite the change in landscape Kennedy could still see the pulsing of torches, a beacon to guide her to salvation.

She was also becoming aware of just how hot the sand was against a body that was no longer mimicking an icicle. Fortunately she didn't have to contemplate that for long, the dry breeze that struck her from behind brought with it the slick scent of an oiled blade, in a reaction that befitted a true slayer Kennedy didn't even strain as she pressed against the earth and from a crouched position executed a perfect arching back flip which carried her over and behind her now very surprised assailant, in the moments when she was upside down and flipping she took in the first of her attackers.

A man, or possibly a woman wrapped in sandy brown and yellow clothes to camouflage themselves in the desert environment, with a turban and veil wrapped around their head as a shield for both identity and from the harsh sandy winds. Landing softly behind the desert fighter Kennedy reached out and took the persons head in a sleeper hold, almost delicately snapping the neck in the space of a heartbeat. The person didn't even have a chance to gasp; the sound of their blade sinking into the sand was the only noise to accompany them to their grave. For a moment the slayer considered stripping her assailant for clothes but reconsidered as she realised how vulnerable she would be in the moments it took her to dress.

The knife on the other hand was a whole different story, however it seemed to have sunk beneath the sands and Kennedy didn't have the time to spare searching for it. She could feel her exit pulsing through her, calling to her in the distance, the call was seductive and she dropped to all fours as she tried to crawl back up the sand dune…the call was both over riding her sense of caution at the same time that it was saving her life. In the moment she dropped to the sand a blade whisked across the back of her head, so close that it sliced a strand of hair free.

"Shit…" she breathed as she drew her knees back to her breasts and viciously shoved them into the oncoming attacker. As she made contact it registered in her mind that the new attacker was dressed identically to the first, not that it mattered as she heard a ribcage shatter as the assailant was flung a good twenty feet and smacked into another sand dune. Jerking her feet forward and arching her back Kennedy flipped to her feet as some kind of tentacle shot out from the opposite dune and drew the now screaming desert person into the sands…not a particularly nice way to die. But then again it had been trying to kill her, so she wasn't going to shed any tears.

In the next assault Kennedy actually saw her attackers as they emerged from the sands, propelled upwards into crouched positions, the desert actually seeming to part to make way for them. Three in total, the front two lunged forward like rabid dogs and she dismissed them as unimportant, an axe kick shattered the skull of one of them, and as it smacked into the ground she swivelled around and swept a low kick along the sand, flicking it into the second persons eyes. It skidded, scratching at its eyes in pain as she laid a fist into its face and followed the strike with a rapid succession of strikes to its throat, chest and groin. The person lay broken and bleeding into the desert moments later.

It was the third one she never saw coming, the first two had just been shock soldiers, cannon fodder designed to grab her attention for the moments it took the third one to get behind her. And he, because there was no mistaking him for a woman with the broad masculine set of his shoulders and his towering six foot five in height, he was a much better soldier.

He stood in a casual, but defensive posture, with the tip of a long rapier like blade pressed into Kennedy's throat with just enough force to draw blood. She hadn't even made it through round one before her blood was drawn, though she couldn't figure out why he hadn't just impaled her. That was the point of the Gauntlet after all, to kill her.

"Well?" She demanded, the words causing his blade to dig a little deeper, a trickle of blood working its way from the wound and down her naked throat. She couldn't see any reaction beneath the turban and veil, he simply stood there, and then she understood why. A dry scaly tentacle had slipped from the sand and now clung to her leg, digging in small prickly spines as it latched on. "Well shit." She pronounced.

The desert grumbled and the sands stirred as whatever was attached to the tentacle tried to rip its way up and above the sands, she saw only the briefest flash of a large worm like monstrous creature with hundreds of sets of gnashing razor blade like teeth. She only saw it for a moment because despite being firmly attached to her leg the creature roared up and devoured the masculine desert man, he had time to let out one petrified scream as it happened, the rapier flipping into the air as he was wrenched into the sand.

_What the hell had just happened?_ She wondered, Kennedy could practically feel the Council asking the same thing, the creature should have ripped her apart, instead it missed completely and took out the man who could have killed her? She let the thought vanished as she snagged the blade from midair and hastily swiped it across the tentacle, instantly she was released and bounding up the dune as fast as her legs could carry her.

Cresting the rise she once again saw the flickering lights of the second pentagram, she also heard the grumbling of the creature beneath her as it screeched for its fallen limb and stalked beneath her.

Then everything changed, in the space of a breath the harsh hot winds of the desert became the cool breeze of a cemetery and a half dozen vampires materialised around her. She no longer had to be concerned with a beast trying to devour her from below, and besides she much preferred slicing and dicing vampires, it was something familiar to her. And despite the rapier being a weapon ill-equipped to behead a vampire she was still glad to have it.

She could handle a half dozen vampires, with a blade to keep them from rushing her they would be easy prey. Without a pause in her step Kennedy continued to bound from the desert into a darkened cemetery, launching herself at the nearest vampire and impaling him. Quick as lightning she drew the blade from his flesh and sliced it across the game face of a second vampire, a vampire who screamed at the sharp pain crossing its face, blood seeping down into its demonically lit eyes.

Grinning savagely Kennedy proceeded to hack and slash the vampires to ashes, using the tombstone to dodge around each time they tried to regroup and attack as a consolidated force. Unfortunately for them they only got in each other's way. In moments they were ashes, and she was covered in them. Except for a lone vampire at the edge of the cemetery, Kennedy had the feeling that just beyond him was the boarder into the next landscape and the next challenge.

She also vaguely thought that he must have something more up his sleeve then the others, where they had been rough and ragged he oozed an air of sophistication, a black silk shirt dangled beneath a suede vest, and over the waist of form fitting black pants and knee high leather boots. He wore a gentleman's ankle length cloak and fedora, as he casually leant on a waist high ebony cane that was topped with some kind of silver inlay.

"I do not wish to do battle with you ma'am," he spoke with a rich upper crust British accent, his eyes never straying from hers and there was a world of weariness in his tone, she actually believed he didn't want to fight her; of course she had just effortlessly killed six of his vampiric comrades, so that might have something to do with it.

Kennedy simply stood at ease atop a damaged crypt, the bloodied rapier dangling by her side as her chest rose and fell, her breathing slightly strained in the cool night air. "However if I wish my freedom I must successfully engage you on the field of battle," with an elegant flourish he draped his cloak over a tombstone.

The Council had made a deal with a vampire? His freedom if he managed to kill her. Something was terribly wrong with the Council, and had been for some time, if she survived she feared she was just going to live to see it grow worse.

"If I am slain this night, my cloak is yours ma'am, it is disgraceful that you are sent to your death in such a shameful state," and it sounded like he genuinely meant it. A considerate vampire. A considerate very old, probably very powerful vampire if the demon within him had walked the earth so long that it had grown weary.

Once more he provided an elegant flourish as he drew a slim silver blade from his cane, allowing the sheath to lye where it fell. He held the blade as gentleman, tilted upwards so that it could brush the side of his face if he was not careful.

Kennedy also noticed that there was a resonance to the blade; she didn't know how else to describe it, an elegance, a beauty, an ancient power that filled her with awe.

"I do not wish to sound boastful ma'am but this blade is greater then two thousand years old, and within it lies the melted and reforged remains of one of the nails which pierced the flesh of Christ."

If he was telling the truth…shit, shit and shit some more. A lot of vampires claimed to have been at the crucifixion, but she got the disturbing sense that he actually was.

"Doesn't it burn you?" she asked, she couldn't help herself, "I mean a fragment of the blood of Christ would be in the metal, making it a holy relic, shouldn't that be impossible for you to use?"

He smiled at that, a soft smile, "To touch the blade itself stings and blisters my skin, lesser vampires can not even bare to stand within striking distance. Should you slay me tonight I would wish that you would take my blade with you, it is very old and powerful and in a sense very much alive…it should not lay forgotten in this," and he looked around as he struggled to find the words adequate to describe the cavern, finally he settled on, "this desolate wasteland."

Kennedy looked into his lonely old eyes as he spoke the next words, "En guard." And then the fight was begun.

He was a creature of ferocious speed; she barely parried his first strike, stumbling from the crypt as she did so. The strength behind even just a glancing blow was horrendous, and in moments he cut through her defences and slashed across her breast, dipping the blade as she dodged back and slicing into her thigh.

Both were shallow wounds, but distracting. Once more he lunged and she deflected the blow by luck more then skill as she flipped backwards, landing softly on her feet and placing a tombstone between them. He simply went over it in a move that was more flight then leap as she realised just how terribly outclassed she was.

He was faster, stronger and more skilled. In the next rush he nearly slit her wrist open when he suddenly reversed a thrust, she managed to parry the following blow and duck beneath a swipe at her throat but it was a one sided fight, if she broke from her defence she would die. And it was impossible to win a fight through defence. Kennedy was panting, her breathing laboured as she fought for the gods only knew how long, a fine tremor quaked through her thigh and she lost her balance. Plunging painfully to her knees, a series of cuts across her body seeping with blood as the gentleman vampire casually kicked her rapier aside with his boot before crushing it into the ground. The slayer stubbornly refused to release it, the end result being that it snapped. Her only weapon gone.

Sweat stung her eyes, and her fringe was plastered to her forehead, in fact her whole body was trembling with cold sweat sliding along it. The tip of his blade flicked along her throat, but drew no blood.

"What a wonderful student you would have made," he said wistfully, "such raw potential you possess. A few years of expert tutelage would have made you a force to be reckoned with." And then he did something completely unexpected; he glided backwards and flipped his holy blade into the air. Flipped it towards her in fact so that she was forced to catch it or be impaled by it.

As her hand closed around it she felt the blade biting into her palm and drawing fresh blood. But she ignored the minor discomfit as she wobbled to her feet, exhaustion warring with her will to live.

"You now possess the weapon, victory is within your grasp," he commented, "but do you possess the honour that is demanded of a warrior carrying a holy relic?" There was a certain demand in his voice with the question.

"I don't understand," she replied, but she thought that she did. He had surrendered the blade when he could have killed her, the honourable thing to do would be to relinquish the weapon and fight him hand to hand. But she had already felt the devastating power he could so delicately employ with the sword, she didn't even want to imagine what he could do with his hands…the smart thing would be to finish him, hard and fast. A holy blade would decimate him, ash him with little difficulty…it would be the _smart_ thing to do, and what did she care about honour?

"Of course you understand," he replied graciously, a knowing smile spreading across his lips, "And I assure you it would be both wise and prudent to slay me quickly," spreading his arms to create a more inviting target, "For even if you fought me again and won, I am but your lightweight challenge, beyond those trees," gesturing towards the edge of the cemetery where she could feel the pulsating energy of the second pentagram, "lies the true test of this _gauntlet,_" he filled the word with such disdain that she was actually surprised.

"You are already weakened, fighting me now will surely mean your death when you cross into the next domain, it is quite understandable for you to dispatch me in the most efficient manner available to you."

Screw it. She was probably going to die soon anyway, she had already fought people, demons and vampires, there weren't a lot of things that would be guaranteed to take her out, so she had a disturbing suspicion as to what was awaiting her behind door number three.

Gritting her teeth Kennedy struck the blade into the ground so that it stood, vibrating in the earth, as she rose to her feet and took a fighting stance.

The vampire laughed then, a deep, booming joyful laugh. "Oh you will do perfectly," was his last cryptic remark before he lunged for her, and it was the strangest sensation to Kennedy, but he seemed to be moving more slowly. She blocked his arm, gripped and effortlessly twisted him into a locked position, yanking him around and then backwards, slamming him into the ground.

"What the hell?" She muttered to herself, it had been easy…that vampire had almost cut her to ribbons without breaking a sweat, but when it came to hand to hand combat she could kick his ass? And then it hit her, the Sword. The only thing to have changed in the last few minutes was that she had touched it, she had touched a holy relic that had been forged with the blood of Christ mixed into it. And as she watched the vampire he seemed to be changing, he was radiating brutality, mindlessness, no longer the refined elegant, thoughtful, gentleman. Was it possible that the holy relic had affected him so strongly over the years, that it had tamed his demon? Civilized him?

She would have asked, or at least tried to, except in the following rush she ducked beneath his outstretched arms, scooped up the broken segment of the rapier, and drew it across his throat. Pulling with all of her slayer strength as she cut through his spine and a fine orange light illuminated his bones before burning free of his flesh and consigning him to ashes.

Kennedy let the ashes trail through her fingers, to be swept away in the once more chill wind that was biting along her exposed skin. And as the wind carried away the last remains of the vampire there was almost a sigh, a final breath let loose into the world, carrying with it all the weariness and pain of an ancient soul. There was more significance in her meeting with that vampire then the slayer could possibly realise, something that seemed true about most of her life recently, but she forged on. He said he was the lightweight challenge, not easy but not the hardest part either.

Her hand lingered on the hilt of the vampires sword, she could feel the energy thrumming through it, something holy radiating out. And as quickly as she touched it she felt a sense of relief, peace and perhaps even hope, her body still ached from the abuse it had been put through, the bone numbing weariness wasn't diminished in the slightest, yet she felt better, as if none of that pain mattered right then.

The slayer took her time in crossing the cemetery, took the time to sheath the blade within the cane and draped the cloak across her shoulders; it was soft against her skin. Well made, expensive and definitely too big for her. But it was considerably better then continuing to walk around naked, it had been kind of him to leave it for her, kinder still to impart a powerful new weapon, but now it was time for her to stop stalling.

To walk ahead, through the trees and into whatever new landscape would await her. As she passed through the intangible barrier Kennedy could almost feel it rippling across her skin, cool like water as it flowed over her until she was suddenly back in the cavern, icy patches covering the ground around her. The solid lights of the torches surrounding the second pentagram not twenty feet from her, glancing backward she could clearly see the pentagram where she had started her little journey, it couldn't have been more then forty feet away, and with no signs of the desert or cemetery she had passed through. Not that it mattered, what was behind her was past, what was ahead of her was all that mattered.

And what was ahead of her was a column of eight young women, four on either side, spread out to make a path for her to walk between them. They were dressed identically in black martial arts gees, the maximum level of physical movement and flexibility with the minimum amount of hindrance. The material itself was dense, providing considerable protection against knives, swords or claws. Though while their uniforms were the same, the girls were not, they were blonde and brunette, red heads and even a girl with fluoro green hair, they ranged from just over five foot to six foot one, skinny and muscular, Black, Caucasian, Asian. Those girls only had two things in common, first they were all slayers.

That thought alone sent shivers done her spine, Kennedy had suspected and feared the final challenge would be slayers, girls like her, forces of nature, of death and destruction, but suspecting was a long way from seeing the reality with her own two eyes.

The second thing they all had in common caused Kennedy to swear violently, "They're all mine!" She hissed. Eight slayers who she had found, recruited and trained. _What the hell was the Council thinking?_

"Yes," a voice pitched in, a voice from the end and centre of the column of slayers, a ninth woman clad in the dark robes of the Council. A woman who casually cast off her concealing robe, and with it the enchantments that distorted her voice. Beneath the robe the woman wore tight black leather pants and a loose blood red tank top, she had raven black hair and was strikingly beautiful, she was also the second oldest and second most powerful slayer currently in existence, Faith.

"Hey," she said very casually, "How's it going?"

Kennedy leant against the cane in shock, her lovely new cloak gaping as she did, "Oh you know the usual, vampires and demons galore," her voice was breathy and conveyed her shock.

"I'm going to level with you here Kennedy, no one on the Council really thought any of that stuff would kill you –"

"Not even the two thousand year old vampire?" She demanded

Faith smiled wickedly, "Actually closer to three thousand."

"Oh," Kennedy mumbled, "That's much better."

"I thought so, he was a bitch to bring in alive, took me and B both to do it," at least that made Kennedy feel better about the fact he had almost effortlessly cut her to ribbons.

"Anyway," Faith went on, "Like I said, none of us really thought demons or vampires would be that big an ordeal for you, hell demons and vampires are our bread and butter. But the one thing a slayer rarely faces…"

"Is another slayer," Kennedy finished for her.

"Exactly," Faith declared, "In fact the only times I can think of where two slayers have seriously laid down against each other is me and B, and she kicked my ass to the curb, or you know off a building," Kennedy had heard of Faiths infamous exploits in Sunnydale. Hell every new slayer heard about what she had done, sort of a warning and sort of an example of what would happen to them if they ever walked the darker path.

"So, in a few moments you're going to be fighting slayers, and not any slayers, but the slayers you taught." And as Faith spoke Kennedy understood why it was happening like that, the Council wanted to see how her students would measure up against her. Being the older slayer she was being pitted against a number of her own students, and hell, it was a test of how far she was willing to go to survive.

Assuming she could even do it, would she kill eight fellow slayers to save her own life? _No _she thought, i_ot eight slayers, nine. _While she hadn't actually said it, Faith was also standing between Kennedy and the second pentagram.

_Fuck_! She wanted to scream, it was a freaking catch 22, even if she beat the slayers in front of her she would be exhausted, wounded, and hell Faith could take her out when Kennedy was at her fighting best anyway.

She wanted to give up, just let despair wash through her and collapse, but it wasn't just her life on the line. Lenore was out there, probably dying, and if Kennedy died there was nothing she could do to save her. But it was an impossible situation.

"I won't lie die and down," Kennedy said quietly, she was looking at Faith, but she was speaking to everyone, the slayers in front of her, and the Council, hidden in their robes behind the pentagram, spontaneous flickers of torch light bringing them in and out of darkness.

"I never thought you would," Faith replied,

"Is that why you're here as well?" Kennedy demanded, "To make sure that I do die?!"

"Yes." Faith replied simply, and Kennedy had to admit she hadn't really expected a response to that question, "The Council doesn't want you dead Kennedy, but unfortunately we need you dead, you've become a threat to us. And if we're going to become executioners, murderers, then there's no point deluding ourselves that we don't have your blood on our hands."

It made sense in a way, Faith would both metaphorically and literally have Kennedy's blood on her hands, it made her respect the older slayer more that she was willing to get her own hands dirty.

"I don't suppose it can just be you and me?" She asked hopefully, "No need to bloody them?" Nodding at the eight slayers between them. Faith just shook her head sadly, and then the fight was on, no more stalling, no more talking. Just death in action.

The slayer closest to Kennedy was five foot ten, dark brown hair, brown eyes and Haitian, and she moved like liquid. Snapping a side kick out with devastating strength, and if Kennedy had been human or any number of demons that would have pretty much ended the fight, instead she stepped into the kicked. Raised her knee to block and pivoted around into the Haitian girls body, locking the extended leg against her ribs while she smashed an elbow back to the audible sound of a snapping bone, Kennedy's hand continued to flick upwards, not a breaking blow. But she felt the tissue of the nose when her fist impacted, dazing the Haitian slayer as she continued to twist violently. Applying pressure to the trapped leg until the knee was wrenched from the joint, to the sound of the slayers agonised screams. She let the girl drop then, smacking into the ground, she was no longer a threat.

The second slayer to reach her was the polar opposite of the Haitian, she couldn't have been much over five feet, and she had dainty blonde ringlets bobbing around her head, she was Caucasian and had crystal clear blue eyes. Mara or Lara, Kennedy remembered, something like that. And like the Haitian she was cannon fodder to the more experienced slayer, hell she doubted the Council had even sent her out into the field solo yet. Her eyes were still so young, so innocent, unmarred by the atrocities she would see. But despite that she moved like a viper, Kennedy was forced to turn aside a blow aimed at her throat before she caught the second strike darting down into her solar plexus, but from there it was over.

She gripped the blonde slayers wrist and twisted it up, high and awkwardly. Kennedy had to give the other slayer credit for not screaming as her wrist broke, from there it was a simple low kick beneath the knee cap and up, continuing the motion as she used the broken wrist to wrench the slayer forward and smash a knee into the blondes delicate jaw line as she fell towards the ground.

It had taken maybe three seconds for her to neatly dispose of two slayers without having to injure them fatally. Damn she was good…or maybe they were just very bad…which would kind of be her fault. _Ah_ _whatever_, she thought as she moved to engage the next slayer.

Lydia. Average height, pretty young girl with a cute button little nose, short fiery red hair and a smattering of freckles across her pale skin. Lydia didn't try to rush Kennedy, just held a solid defensive position as the other five slayers circled. Crap.

Kennedy was reaching the finish line, and she didn't mean the pentagram. That bone weary tiredness was beginning to be felt again and she was rapidly burning through what little reserve energy she still had, she was either going to try a brute force attack, make a gap in the encircling slayers and try to race past them, past Faith and reach the pentagram or…well there was no or, it was pretty much her only shot.

She chose Macrina, a small Asian slayer to her right, and with no warning Kennedy lashed out and collided with the girl. Smashing into her so violently and so viciously that the girl was down before she even realised what was happening. Kennedy devolved into savagery at that point, she may have caught one slayer off guard but the other five closed the circle and between them overcame her, pounding into her flesh with fists and feet. All that was left for her to do was curl into a ball and protect herself as well as she could, but she was dazed and bleeding, her bones broken and her flesh turning deep ugly shades of purple and black. It was only with those blows raining down upon her, the slayers being utterly merciless, that she vaguely recalled the sword hidden within the cane that was now lying somewhere behind her, too far for her to reach.

What was happening to her was no longer the precise attack of a slayer, it was a mob of supernaturally strong women who had been caught up in the bloodlust, driven on by the mob mentality, the need to fight and to hurt and to kill.

"Stop," A powerful commanding voice echoed throughout the cavern. Surprisingly the mob of slayers complied instantly, each stepping just far enough back to keep Kennedy controlled if necessary. "Lift her," Faith commanded and a slayer stepped to either side of Kennedy and raised her to her knees.

They had to hold her there; she was lacking the strength to even kneel without support, her body broken and bleeding. Blood was crusting across her face and holding one eye shut so that she could only look up at Faith through blurred vision.

The raven-haired slayer looked sad, regretful as she stared down at Kennedy, "It'll all be over soon," she murmured, as she drew a strangely shaped knife from the small of her back. Like Faith the knife was infamous, it had been run through the slayer in the moments before she went off the building.

A gift from the Mayor of Sunnydale, designed to kill, only now Faith was using it to kill monsters, or in this case, she was about to use it to kill Kennedy. To end it.

"As is your right under the law's of Gauntlet, do you have any final words?" She asked quietly, the chances of Kennedy being able to reply through her bloody and swollen lips was slim to none, but Faith asked anyway, and for some reason Kennedy didn't think it was to taunt her. She was racking her brain for an answer, a means of survival, anything, but she was coming up empty, she couldn't even think of something clever and witty to say before she died. She looked up at her executioner and she could have sworn Faith's eyes glistened with unshed tears; it was hard to kill a person in cold blood, a person who was beaten black and blue, a person who was defenceless.

And then, in the final moments, it was as if some one had put Kennedy's face in a vice grip and was turning it, forcing her to look towards the Robed Council, it took her a long time to realise she wasn't looking at the Council. She was looking at Bethany, the telekinetic lawyer who worked for Angel Investigations. And when she finally looked Bethany in the eyes, that same vice grip forced her to look down, down into the lawyers hands and at the piece of paper she held.

_Paper_? She wondered, what was so important about a piece of paper. And then finally she understood, it wasn't a piece of paper; it was a contract, a contract in a lawyer's hand!

Her eyes flicked back to Faith who was drawing the dagger back, preparing for the deathblow as Kennedy frantically mumbled. The words were incoherent, but the noise was clear enough, and Faith paused to look down and listen, she even knelt in front of Kennedy and turned her head so that she might hear more clearly.

"What did she say?" The distorted voice of a Council member demanded to know, Faith glanced back at the robed figures in puzzlement.

"She said that she breaks her contract." Faith finally replied, unsure if what she heard was right,

"What the hell does that mean?" One of the Council demanded, and it was Bethany who answered him with a brimming, very satisfied smile.

"It means Ladies and Gentleman of the Council, that this Gauntlet is now invalid," even as she spoke a vibrant white light, tinged with wisps of black coalesced around the beaten slayer, they drew out from her body in the space of one painful shuddering breath and swarmed towards Bethany, to flow into the contract she held. The paper glowed bright white for a moment, before it faded back into normal paper.

"Kennedy is no longer a slayer, her powers have been forfeited, which makes her a regular, run of the mill human. And by the Fourth Law of Gauntlet it means that she wins the challenge by default, she is free to go." The pronouncement was met with numerous gasps and a period of silence before the Council erupted in an uproar.

"No!" "Cheating!" "Deceiving!" "Lying!" "Treachery!" Were some of the comments that the Council was issuing, Kennedy also noticed the lack of comment by some members of the Council. Faith herself was slipping an arm around the beaten slayer and helping her to stand, "Congratulations," she whispered, causing Kennedy to smile weakly. A trick of the law, a turn of fate and she had survived what she could not have survived otherwise…but she was also human, a weak, normal, powerless human, and that thought brought such pain to her heart that she almost wished she had died.

How could she be powerless after having been a slayer? It was like suddenly becoming deaf, dumb and blind in an instant.

The arms of a second Council member encompassed the slayer as she staggered forward, the order of the cavern having been disturbed with several members of the Council almost at Bethany's throat…she was a tricky little one, Kennedy would definitely give her that…Kennedy was also miraculously feeling better, slowly at first, a warm energy was spreading through her arm and to the rest of her body…the arm being held by the still robed Council member…a Council member who smelled oddly of strawberries.

"Thank you Willow," she murmured as her bones cracked audibly, resetting themselves, blood and bruises being reabsorbed into her skin, somehow she suspected her ex girlfriend really shouldn't have been healing her. And by the way the witch staggered as she finished the job, Kennedy also suspected it took a great deal more energy to heal then it did to destroy. She said thank you again.

"Look, I'd really love to stay and chat," Bethany declared, spreading her arms passively in front of the Council, "But I really must run, pressing business and all, Kennedy will submit the boon you promised her in writing soon." Before anyone could even begin to utter a response Bethany practically leapt towards the now healed slayer, her hand outstretched as the vampires cane flew into it. With her other hand she took a hold of Kennedy and yanked her into the second pentagram.

The effect was instantaneous, an explosive wave of energy encompassing the two of them and when it cleared they were gone from the cavern, safe from the Council. However what neither of the two noticed was the illuminated contract, in the moments when magical and temporal energy relocated them from the Cavern the contract binding Kennedy's slayer powers glowed a vicious, eye burning gold with streaks of burnt orange, and as they were drawn from the cavern to be returned to the moment in space and time where Kennedy had been taken from, the contact was held back. Vanishing from Bethany's hands to fall to the ground and be swallowed up by whatever power animated the Cavern, perhaps to be lost for eternity or perhaps to be claimed by a member of the Council at another time. Either way any chance for the former slayer to regain what she was, was lost.

**Epilogue**

When Kennedy returned to the highway, to the hunters, and to her precious Lenore, she did not return in a wisp of black smoke like when she had left. She returned in a vibrant, pulsating burst of energy. Energy that washed outwards with staggering force, no man or woman was left on their feet as they were thrown to the shimmeringly hot surface of the highway, dazed and confused by both her sudden disappearance and reappearance.

She also did not return alone. While Kennedy knelt on the ground, so very tired and weak, not use to the weakness of being normal, Bethany stood beside her. She stood tall and straight, with the wind whipping through her auburn hair and the hot afternoon sun glinting off her skin. One hand clenched around the shaft of the vampires cane, her other hand clenched in apparent frustration.

With one scalding sweep of her eyes Bethany took in the scene, her eyes lingering on the bleeding poisoned form of Lenore and then she was expressionless. The tension fled from her body and she levelled her gaze on the hunter closest to Lenore, a hunter trying to aim his crossbow as he drew himself to his feet. From where Kennedy knelt it looked as if the air coalesced in front of him, for an instant it was like a solid rippling wall that struck him. And that was the end of him, thrown fifty feet or more he smacked into the desert floor and skidded along it violently.

Kennedy had seen Bethany deflect and shatter bullets and arrows, she had seen the telekinetic lawyer use her powers to defend, now she saw the full devastating power that Bethany was capable of unleashing. Her eyes burned with the contained fury as she threw the hunters around like rag dolls, she had no care for what happened once they were airborne, as long as they were being thrown away from her.

It was incredible, and terrifying and all the former slayer could do was watch as she wobbled on her knees. All she could do was watch, and that was what let her see being normal didn't mean she was completely helpless, she saw the shuffling black woman sliding up behind Bethany, a long blood stained machete poised to strike. Kennedy saw her, and she saw Kennedy, her eyes flicking down to the former slayer, and dismissing her as she drew back the blade.

Kennedy had no time to think, she just reacted, her hand flung up to grab the canes hilt, and while Bethany held it she managed to draw the silver sword as she shoved herself forward in a cloud of dust, ducking her head and rolling so that once more she came up on her knee's, the blade hovering lightly against the hunter's thigh, ready to slice through her femoral artery. And the hunter froze, her muscles straining under the pressure of so sudden a stop, the precision with which her body obeyed her was impressive, even by Kennedy's standard, but as she met the hunters eyes she saw the calculation. Wondering whether she was fast enough to pull off the move anyway, and Kennedy saw in those eyes that there was no more hope, no more mercy or kindness, just pain and agonising despair, the woman didn't care about dying anymore…and she made her choice. She lunged.

Kennedy didn't even have a chance to blink, to think or consider, she sheathed the blade in the woman's thigh, a hot gush of blood spurting across her face, into her open mouth and eyes as she rose to catch the descending arm. The blood stung, but she felt none of it as she caught the arm and guided back down into the woman's stomach. It was an instantaneous realization for both of them that the black woman was going to die, and she did, when Kennedy wrenched the machete from the woman's stomach and stepped back, watching as the woman fell to her knees, clutching at the bleeding wound, the other sword still sticking out of her thigh. The former slayer beheaded the hunter in a single stroke, a second steaming rush of blood splattering into her.

Looking over her shoulder Kennedy saw the battle was done, the sniper in the tree line being the last to meet his fate. Kennedy also looked into Bethany's eyes, the machete still slowly dripping the hunter's blood, and she saw no condemnation or judgement for the woman's execution.

After that the two of them gathered Lenore into the van they had bought earlier that day, and they left. Bethany being the only one in any state to drive as Kennedy huddled in the back, holding her poisoned lover as she fought to drive the dead mans blood from veins, it was an agonising process for the both of them but they survived it. They would both heal and they let Bethany take them back to Los Angeles, to Angel Investigations where they could have time to heal mentally, and emotionally as they found their new place in the world.

Kennedy was a powerless slayer grasping for a new way to survive, to exist, and Lenore was a vegetarian vampire fighting her newly regained blood addiction. What a pair they made with the former slayers insecurities over whether Lenore would still love her now that she was only half of what she had been, and Lenore terrified that the bloodlust would win out, and that without her slayer powers Kennedy would just be the first in a long string of victims. But what better place for the pair to be then at Angel Investigations, where there was not one but two vampires who had already stopped feeding on human blood and where fighting the good fight was about more then just the physical power a person commanded.

And of course there was no forgetting the Council, they were not pleased with Kennedy, or with Angel Investigations for that matter. They all knew there were going to be consequences, dire ramifications for all of them. But they all agreed on one thing; Let Them Come, Let Them Try, and Let them choke on their own blood as they died.


End file.
